


Two to Play

by Vampirelala



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Hand Jobs, Hannibal calls Will William, M/M, Manipulation, Murder Husbands, Oral Sex, Post canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Sexual Tension, They both like it, post season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2019-11-14 02:12:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18043499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampirelala/pseuds/Vampirelala
Summary: Five months after the fall, and Hannibal still treats Will like a shattered teacup. When Will realizes this, he must make a decision concerning their future. Is their friendship enough, or does Will need more?





	1. Awakening

 

There was something decidedly strange about the landscape. In part, Will supposed it was the lack of cold air and open fields. Here, even the winds were pressing, humid and damp. They carried the scent of the ocean with them. Even though he would have found this comfortable not too many moons ago, now he was only reminded of rips and screams, the iron tang of blood and the frosty bite of salt.

Whether or not this was a fond memory, he hadn’t yet decided. It was, however, a vivid one, brightly colored compared to the bad grey images he now associated with the three years before that fateful day.

 

Will leaned his head back, allowing rays of the hot afternoon sun to caress his face. Neighbors were scarce in this particular village, on this particular island, but Will could still see plenty of houses from his balcony on the second floor. Someone had had the foresight to ensure their house was on the edge of the town, near the ocean, but not so far from civilization as to arouse suspicion. Will’s lips twisted in a small smile that tugged uncomfortably at the still-healing scar tissue on his cheek. He was discovering, once more, he didn’t much mind Hannibal’s scheming.

 

If it wasn’t directed at him, that was.

 

Will leaned his head back against the windowsill. Hannibal. No matter what he was musing about, every thought he had always led back to him.

Everything always led back to him.

They had not spoken much since Chiyo pulled them from the ocean. Hannibal had not commented on Will’s attempt to end them. Neither had Will remarked on the fact that Hannibal had anticipated it.

Will closed his eyes. Water closed around him, salt and storm and copper. In his mind, he kicked his legs and opened his lungs to the sky. Grey crashed around him. He couldn’t see anything but the infinite sea.

The panic he had felt for the split second he couldn’t locate Hannibal had been heart-shattering. He had died a thousand deaths in the single moment before he felt Hannibal’s hand reaching for his own.

 

It had been five months since.

 

He still couldn’t place the panic. He woke, at night, grasping his sheets and turning, desperate to see Hannibal.

But Will slept alone. He would lay awake until early morning until he heard Hannibal’s footsteps. His soul would quiet then, his mind at peace. Sometimes, he would sleep a few hours more. More often, he would rise. He had gotten good at easy smiles and pretending he had accidentally awoken at the same time.

He was sure Hannibal even believed him half the time.

The front door clicked open. Will hadn’t locked it. Visitors were unlikely and robbers even less so. Besides, he was reasonably sure he could handle everything that came at him.

After all, he had survived a Dragon.

Will raked his hands through his long curls. He pulled a hairband from around his wrist and pulled his hair into a small ponytail at the base of his neck. Doing so pulled the hair from his face in a way he would have found uncomfortable even a mere year ago. Maybe he would still hate it, were it not for the person who looked upon him the most did it with such a violent longing he almost believed himself desirable.  

‘James, are you home?’

Hannibal had barely raised his voice, announcing his arrival to ensure Will didn’t call him out by his true name. In a way, he was reminding Will to be James.

That, he could do.

Will felt his lips curve. He looked at himself in his bedroom mirror. His shirt followed his body nicely and his shorts hugged his hips snugly. With a clinical eye, Will allowed himself to slip a little into Hannibal’s amazingly complex mind. It changed the view in the mirror, ever so slightly. Not physically, but the perception seemed more pleasant.

With a smirk, Will undid the first two buttons of his shirt before walking downstairs.

‘Anthony?’ he asked, keeping his voice soft and sleepy. He slowly made his way to the kitchen, for where else would his darling partner be?

Soft voices murmured in Spanish, drifting through the open doors. Will followed them.

‘Good afternoon, Mrs. Alvarez-Olenza,’ Will said.

‘Ah, James. Come here, help us,’ the older woman motioned them towards the shopping bags. Will smiled at her before daring to look at Hannibal. He had felt the man’s gaze on him, the moment he stepped in. This, the pressure of his presence, of his being, had not lessened after living together for two months.

Hannibal met Will’s eyes and trailed them downwards. Every second, every pointed stare seemed to undress Will more and more. Will shivered.

‘James. Did you have a nice nap?’ Hannibal looked pointedly as Will’s ruffled shirt and open collar.

Will trailed his fingers down his neck and let his eyes open wide in feigned surprise.

‘Oh.’ He quickly buttoned his shirt to a respectable height. ‘I'm so sorry.’ Will smiled at Mrs. Alvarez, his innocence an easy mask. He had worn it long enough. ‘I do apologize for my appearance.’

Mrs. Alvarez smiled. She adored Hannibal, with his fluent Spanish and appreciation for the mid-American kitchen. They went shopping together once a week and selected the finest spices and best fresh ingredients. As such, she indulged him his more peculiar whims.

Will had no doubt that was exactly what he was to her. One of Hannibal's peculiarities.

 

He couldn't say she was totally wrong.

 

Still, he had grown on her in the last couple of weeks and now she smiled at him as she would a young and silly grandson. It suited Will, and his homemade mask of sensual innocence, just fine. Little Jamie. Anthony's beloved muse. The first time he had realized exactly what kind of cover Hannibal had fabricated for them, Will hadn’t spoken to Hannibal for a week.

'It's okay, Jamie,' Mrs. Alvarez said. 'It is all right. Now. Help an old woman?'

Will smiled and took the bags she handed him. One by one, he put the items away on their respective shelves. Whenever he had the chance, he would brush by Hannibal, or smile coyly at him in the way of James Murray. It lit hesitant fires in Hannibal's eyes. In the eight weeks since Will had started playing this particular game, he had yet to tire of it. A smile here, a touch there... It made Hannibal so unbalanced. And while Will had yet to decide what he wanted to do with the attraction that shimmered between them, he did so love to see Hannibal unbalanced. Besides, it served him right. He damn well could have conjured up a different cover.

 

________________________________

 

Hannibal escorted Mrs. Alvarez home when they were done, promising to bring by some dinner tomorrow. Will watched them through the kitchen windows until they were out of sight before he succumbed to the desire for a drink. It was easier, now, to stray from the scotch Hannibal so dutifully bought him. Instead, he grabbed a light beer, tinted with the taste of lemon. Though there was hardly any alcohol in it, Will found he did not desire it so much here.

He sat outside, leaning against the wooden frame of their house. He closed his eyes once more and let himself fall into the millions fractured pieces of psyche he had absorbed so far. They looked like shards of glass in a flowing stream. Will waded into the waters and picked up a ragged shard. A home invasion, this one. Not a serial killer in the way that Jack’s prey had been. This man had broken into homes, shot the families and spend the night. He ate their food and drank their drinks, slept in their beds like a twisted version of Goldilocks.

But he did not paint pictures of them, never turned a body inside out to show Will a beating heart.

Unimpressed, Will threw the shard back into the water. This man did not impress him, nor did Will particularly enjoy the look and feel of his victims. This killer had felt nothing and so Will felt nothing for him.

Tasteless.

Catching a glimpse of a human body, twisted and turned ever so artfully into a blooming tree, Will reached into the stream. His fingers rippled the glass, allowing him to reach into the scene. Into this piece of art.

From the corner of his eye, Will watched his stag sniff at the water. Will held out his hand, allowing the beast to sniff him and lick his fingers. When Will had first spotted the being by the side of his stream, it had been skittish and wary of him. Will could hardly blame it. After all, he had shot it. Watched it die.

Now, the stag seemed to trust him once more, although it was tentative.

‘William? Do you care for dinner?’ Hannibal’s voice drifted across the clearing and with a final stroke of the stag’s feathers, Will let his mind detach from his mind palace.

‘Yes, please.’ He threw the rest of the beer back and ignored Hannibal’s outstretched hand.

‘I am not so old I need assistance,’ he stated as he walked back into the air-conditioned cool of their house.

‘I should hope not, as I exceed you in age,’ Hannibal remarked. ‘Please.’ He nodded at the ready and filled plates on the table. A deceptively simple looking salad, topped with fish and cashews.

Will didn’t doubt it would be delicious.

‘Thank you.’ He sat down and started to eat. Ignoring the wine, he drank some water instead.

‘Did you have a pleasant day, Will?’

‘A question you ask every day and every day the answer is the same. Yes, Hannibal. I had a pleasant day. You do not need to ask.’

‘I ask because I desire to know the answer, Will. Believe me, it is in my own interest.’ Again, that fire in Hannibal’s eyes. It seemed tender, somehow, to Will. He knew he had to do something about it, even vaguely knew what it was he wanted to do. However, this was not a decision he would make on a whim. Which meant he needed time to think. Just a little more time to accept the only possible conclusion his mind would ever come to.  

‘Alright. I suppose I could trust you to know your mind.’ Will sighted and continued eating. In between bites, he told Hannibal about his, admittedly boring, day.

‘How was your day?’ Will asked politely as he cleaned the dishes.

‘Good. I painted some, while you were walking, and my shopping trip with Mrs. Alvarez was most satisfying, though I will have to venture a trip to the main island soon. There are some supplies you simply cannot acquire here.’

Will hesitated, for just a second. A trip to another island sounded nice, but he had to be frank with himself. If he offered to go, why would he do it? Because he wanted to was more than good enough for Hannibal, but was he satisfying his own fears more than anything else? He would rather die than allow himself to become a puppy, following Hannibal around, scared to lose sight of him.

So he turned to grab their glasses of wine and transferred them outside.

‘I’m going upstairs to grab a book. Can I get you anything?’

‘My current novel is on my nightstand. If you would be so kind?’ Hannibal didn’t look at him, which Will was grateful for. He skipped up the stairs and grabbed his thriller. Hannibal’s bedroom was across of his, and Will opened the door carefully, even though he knew its inhabitant was downstairs preparing a platter full of fruit.

Will couldn’t help but breathe in deeply. The room smelt like Hannibal. It assaulted his senses and Will felt compelled to softly trail his fingers over the bed. The cool silk felt decadent. It matched Hannibal.

It matched Hannibal in the way he, himself, matched Hannibal. Will closed his eyes for a second before he grabbed the book and went downstairs. Hannibal was already seated, a small serving platter with artfully cut fruits between two chairs. Will handed him the book, which Hannibal took with a grateful nod.

 

They read in silence, as they always did these days. No-one spoke and the gnawing, doubting void in Will grew. It raked its teeth on Will’s doubts. It would be easy to sip the wine, eat something and just read. But that’s what Will had done for the past eight weeks and it had gotten him nowhere. He and Hannibal made small talk. They ate together and bid each other goodnight to go to different bedrooms. The same ritual each and every night.

Will stared meaningless at the pages of his book, allowing the letters to dance before his eyes. The first couple of nights they had been here, there had been something other than the void in him. Anticipation, he supposed. A tense sort of excitement whenever Hannibal was near him. But days had passed and nothing had happened.

Except the nightmares were lonelier. And he slept even worse than before their fall.

 

The wind turned and the smell of the ocean assaulted Will’s senses.

Will clenched his fingers around the edge of his book.  He could almost feel the wooden boat underneath him, the pain lacing through his face and shoulder. It was an illusion, that much Will knew. But he couldn’t help the terror at the mere notion that Hannibal might leave him.  

Can’t live with him, can’t live without him.

If they were to die, it would be together, at each other’s hand. He would make sure of it.

‘William. If you would care for some dessert?’

Will looked up slowly and saw Hannibal had replaced the pieces of fruit with two small glass bowls of tiramisu.

 ‘Feeding me seems al you do these days,’ Will joked as he put his book down.

Hannibal’s smile was so polite, Will wanted to strangle him. ‘It’s entirely my pleasure, Will.’

‘I’m sure it is.’ His eyes on his food, Will took his time eating, savoring every piece before returning to his book. He forced his eyes to remain on the page as Hannibal cleaned up the dishes. Will moved his eyes over nonsensical letters, determined not to stare.

Hannibal reached over him to grab his empty wineglass. His hand brushed over Will’s knee and it took all Will had not to jump at the touch. Or lean into it. Instead, he moved his leg away in a disinterested fashion. After a couple more pages, he announced that he was going to bed.

Hannibal let him.

Will walked up the stairs slowly. He opened the door to his bedroom and left it open behind him. Leaning against the wall nearest the window, he allowed himself to slide towards the floor. Hannibal let him leave.

That was the problem, Will realized. Hannibal had let him leave. Allowed him to take long walks and sleep in. He never mentioned it when Will read in the same position for hours, would simply feed him and give him drinks. He treated Will the way illustrious painter Anthony would treat his muse. But Will was no fragile, tender thing. In fact, it was Hannibal who had taught him the opposite.

And therein lay the rub. Will wanted Hannibal. He wanted their intelligent, over-the-top conversations, the fierce relationship they had had. God help him, Will even wanted the subtle games they had played.

Though perhaps they could be a little less deadly.

 

Closing his eyes, Will let out a deep breath. Now he just needed to find a way to let Hannibal know without seeming too clingy and weak.

 

 


	2. Ocean-deep

 

Everything was dark. A sense of peace enveloped Will as he clung to the man in his arms, cradling him as gently as possible. The scent of blood filled his senses. His heart was beating rapidly. Each and every thump sent blood flying through the air. Freeing it. Liberating Will. The water came. It was inevitable, really, but Will could not find it in himself to care.

They crashed into the water simultaneously, the monster and his protégé. The devil and his worshipper. Will didn’t cry out when the water hit his wounds when chaos engulfed him and bones broke on impact. He had anticipated it.

The waves ripped at them.

Suddenly, Will was alone.

His hands frantically moved through the water, his legs kicked at the dark. Will felt himself struggle despite his earlier resolutions and he came up, gasped and screamed. Screamed for the most important thing in the world.

‘HANNIBAL.’

White foam rushed at him and Will was pushed towards the cliffs. He was going to die. Alone.

 

 

Will woke with a start, gulping large breaths down his throat. His hands gripped at empty sheets surrounding him. Pain pierced Will. He clenched his eyes shut, allowing his mind to calm down, to see, smell and feel his present situation. The ocean smell beckoned Will from the windows. Tendrils of it teased his nose and Will lunged towards the bathroom. Blind, in panic and from the sweat dripping down to his eyes, he gripped the cold porcelain pot and bend down over it. He heaved, more from anxiety than anything else. Nothing came up. After a couple of dry heaves, Will forced his breath to slow down, counting the seconds in his head. Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, exhale.

Getting up took Will longer than he would ever admit. His hands trembled, his legs shook. But they held. And Will rose.

Will splashed water into his face without looking into the mirror. His fingers tangled into hair, catching on his long curls. His fingers curled, tugging harshly on the strands.

‘No.’

Will untangled his fingers and walked out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The sound didn’t register and Will made his way towards the large balcony on the south side of the house. It bordered what was once a sitting room. Once, before they moved in and Hannibal became Anthony Mikhailov, a charming artist. Now, the moon peeked past the curtains, playing with the numerous paintings, easels, and cabinets filled with paint. Will walked past them with practiced ease and strode to the balcony doors. They were open, just slightly. Will trailed his fingers on the white-painted wood. Hannibal always left the doors open. He wondered why. Perhaps Hannibal wanted someone to break in. It was unlikely on this island, but still. It could happen. Will wondered what Hannibal would do, then.

He wondered what he would do. After all, Will had never felt compelled to close the doors either.

Will leaned against the balcony, facing the ocean. He could see the moon reflected in the water. The water was so much calmer here. _It_ _’s not the same_ , his mind whispered as tendrils of smoky ocean strangled Will,  hugging him tighter and tighter. Drowning him on dry land in loneliness.

How poetic.

 

Soft footsteps behind him, sure and steady. Will didn’t turn, didn’t feel the need to face the monster at his back. The ocean loosened its grip on Will, begging him farewell. Will sagged a little, breathing more evenly.

‘William?’ Hannibal’s voice was soft, banishing the last of Will’s nightmare. Will wondered if the tenderness he detected was wishful thinking, a figment of his own imagination. Maybe all of this was. It would not be the strangest dream, nor the weirdest hallucination his brain had ever concocted.

‘William, are you awake?’

Will smiled, a soft scoff escaping his lips. He turned, away from the railing.

‘Yes.

Hannibal seemed to relax, just slightly, at Will’s confirmation, he hadn’t been sleepwalking.

‘You might want to dress if you desire to stay out. While the temperature is still high, the wind does not match its temperament,’ Hannibal stated with an inclination of his head. ‘I would prefer you not get ill.’

Will let his mind wander to the ground, a slight smile ghosting his lips. ‘I rarely get ill.’ Nor would he break as easily as Hannibal seemed to fear. Of course, brain fevers were a notable exception, but Will didn’t feel the need to point this out. Instead, he let Hannibal’s presence calm him. He didn’t find it hard to admit Hannibal’s hovering, half in the doorframe, half on the terrace pleased him to some extent. The good doctor wasn’t sure his presence was welcome on the balcony. And yet, he didn’t turn away. The everlasting dilemma of their relationship, ever wanting to leave the other, yet so unsure if they would welcome them. Mere months ago, Hannibal would have simply joined Will, assuming Will would either let him stay or tell him to leave.

 

The damnest thing was, Will wanted Hannibal to regain his confidence regarding him. He moved to the side, just a little. Just enough to let Hannibal realize he was welcome to join him.

He always was.

In a way, he always had been. And while Will still doubted many things, this was not one of them. He and Hannibal were meant to be together. In whatever form.

In every form.

Hannibal kept a respectful distance, just outside Will’s personal space. It was weirdly endearing. Also, absolutely ridiculous, totally annoying and not at all like the Hannibal Will wanted and needed so badly.

Wil shook his head at his own ponderings. His eyes trailed over stone, the railing and up towards the vast sky. The night was darker here, a more solid black, scattered with pinpricks of white. The emptiness of it all, the plain beauty, it fit Hannibal. It fit both of them.

‘When we got here, you promised me. No more lies,’ the words fell out of Will’s mouth, one after another, slow and steady, articulating thoughts months in the making.

‘So I did,’ Hannibal said. ‘Have I given you cause to doubt my words?’

Will snorted. ‘You know you didn’t. Besides, I haven’t asked you anything worth lying over. Not in months.’ _Nor you me._

‘Yet you want to.’

It was not a question.

‘But I want to,’ Will said. Saying it out loud made it true. He turned to Hannibal and forced himself to look. To drown in those eyes and feel everything.

Nothing.

Just like the last time he tried. Oh, he felt affection and a slight bit of curiosity but he didn’t need his special brand of empathy for that. It was a pain and a relief in one, not knowing, not feeling everything. When he had met Hannibal, he had seen too little. Allowed himself to see far and far too little. After his own imprisonment, there were moments when he had seen too much.

Now, it was like looking into the ocean on a clear day. Hannibal was full of many things he glimpsed, but nothing assaulted him. Nothing to overpower his own mind. Gentle brushes against him, at most. It drove him near crazy and if that wasn’t irony, Will didn’t know what was. He frowned. He wanted to reach out, to dig into Hannibal’s mind. He wanted to see, to feel what Hannibal felt. What ecstasy it would be, to see Hannibal’s designs like that.

‘What are you thinking about?’

Hannibal blinked once, a sole marker of his surprise. He cocked his head slightly, considering.

‘I was contemplating many things, Will. Do you want me to list them? I must confess, you might find some of them uncomfortable.’ His voice dropped low and Will shivered. Did he want to know? In a way, he didn’t. While he had decided that he wanted to be on even footing with Hannibal again, he wasn’t yet sure how he wanted that scenario played out. To be together, surely. Will knew Hannibal loved him, had known even before Bedelia had pointed it out to him. Yet Will didn’t want to presume the form Hannibal’s love would take. Nor was he sure what kind of relationship he himself desired, though he did need Hannibal back to his old self before he could even phantom for anything to happen. And this comment was more Hannibal than any other conversation they had had in months. Besides, there was one thing Will did know. With Hannibal, knowing was always better than being left in the dark.

After all, that’s where monsters reigned.

‘Uncomfortable,’ Will repeated. ‘But not incomprehensible?’

A flash of red, burning anger in Hannibal’s eyes. ‘No Will. I would never insult your intelligence so. You understand, or are perfectly able to ask for an explanation when you don’t. No, I just wanted to be honest and give you a fair warning. ‘

Will considered this. He breathed in the clean air and threw his head back from Hannibal’s alluring gaze, turning his eyes to the stars instead.

‘I still want to know.’ Will's voice rang clear across the night. He felt, more than saw, Hannibal nod his head in acquittance.

‘Very well. Mostly, I was attempting to save this image in my memories for later recollection. It would be most pleasant to draw you like this, beautifully posed under the night sky.’ Hannibal’s eyes trailed over the pajama pants, lingered where they hung low on Will’s hips, from the pale scar on his belly to the hair on his bared chest, until his eyes finally met Will’s again. Hannibal seemed to drink in every line of Will’s face, from his hair to his cheekbones to his chin. And unless Will was sorely mistaken, up again, with a long lingering look at his lips. Will felt his face flush and he moved a bit, leaning back over the railing of the balcony.

‘Will you?’ he asked. ‘Draw me, I mean.’

‘Likely, yes,’ Hannibal said. There was no shame in the confession, nor did Will expect it. Strangely enough, the idea of Hannibal sitting in the atelier, focusing on the lines of Will. Lingering his pencil over lips, hips, the lines of his chest…

Will turned his back to Hannibal and clenched his hand around the cool iron railing.

‘Do you draw me often?’ he asked into the night.

‘Such an open question. Tell me, Will. What do you define as often?’

Will almost laughed at the teasing curiosity in Hannibal’s voice. Would have, if not for the tingling in his own stomach.

‘God, I, hell if I know. More than once a week?’

‘Then yes. I draw you often.’

‘How often?’ Will whispered.

‘I’m sorry, William. I’m afraid I couldn’t quite hear you. Could you repeat that?’

Effing bastard. At least Will now knew for sure the good doctor still got off on this. Or perhaps he just got a kick out of Will’s discomfort. Either way was fine for now. Will took a deep breath and turned back to look Hannibal straight in the eye.

‘How often?’ His voice rang clear between the arm length that separated them.

‘More than anything else,’ Hannibal said. He reached out and Will didn’t flinch, didn’t look away as Hannibal’s fingers gently stroked a damp lock of hair from his forehead and tucked it behind his ear.

‘What else did you think about just now?’ Will asked, knowing full well that Hannibal did not ever consider just one thing. His voice had dropped to a whisper without him being able to help it. His breath seemed to catch in his lungs, his voice seemed trapped in his throat.

Hannibal smiled softly, moving marginally closer with every breath that labored past Will’s slightly parted lips. ‘I wondered why I still tried to draw you, knowing as I do that I will never be able to catch your essence. I wanted to know whether you still have nightmares and, if so, I wondered if I still feature in them?’

Hannibal pressed his fingers, just barely, against the pink scar on Will's cheek. ‘Or do you dream of different monsters now? What woke you, William?’ A firmer press now, lower and lower, past Will’s jaw, following the gentle curve of this neck. Will felt his heart flutter, the beat unnaturally loud. He could hear it so clearly, which meant that surely Hannibal must hear it too. Hannibal’s fingers dropped lower, gazing Will’s left collarbone…

Will caught Hannibal’s hand and held it immobile.

‘I dreamt,’ he said. ‘I dreamt of you.’

Will pushed Hannibal’s hand aside and strode past him into his own bedroom. He closed the door behind himself, knowing he couldn’t face more of Hannibal tonight. Not without doing something or moving too fast. He needed time. Time to entice Hannibal as he once had, and time to make up his own mind. For the look in Hannibal’s eyes? They spoke of a hunt of an entirely different sort.  

Will lay down on his bed. After a minute, he heard footsteps, a door falling shut. He wondered if either of them would get any more sleep tonight.

 

He doubted it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! Let me know your thoughts and as always, all mistakes are my own.  
> I attempt to publish a chapter weekly, around Friday (so this one is a little early <3)


	3. Changing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will makes some decisions, and decides to lure Hannibal further into a different relationship

Will had been staring at his computer screen for the last ten minutes, which he knew was just ridiculous. With a barely audible groan, he dropped his head into his hands. Hannibal would likely be home soon. Will had risen early that morning, quite set on pretending everything was normal. Like he didn’t find Hannibal, or their nightly conversation, all that interesting. Certainly, Will had not lain in bed for hours, tossing and turning, the ghost of Hannibal’s touch quickening his heartbeat.

_Do you find sustenance at the sight of him?_

The answer to that question had always been yes. Yes, when Hannibal had been his rock. Yes, when the games they played had filled them both with such wary excitement. Yes, when Will had forgiven Hannibal. And most definitely yes, yes, yes, when he had tricked Hannibal into turning himself in and even more so after Hannibal had lured him back to play.

Yet Will had to admit to the hesitations he had now.

On one hand, he needed Hannibal to see him as an equal, a partner. He was not James, fragile muse to an artist, spun out of glass and treated with utmost care. Yet, on the other hand, a large part of him liked it when Hannibal took care of him. As long as it was Hannibal, taking care of Will, not because he was broken but because Hannibal valued him enough to care for him in the most gentle of ways. Will did, however, need Hannibal to be himself while doing it. He missed their manipulative little games, he missed the twinkle in Hannibal’s eye whenever Will did something entirely unexpected.

Will just didn’t know how he would balance the two, how he could entice Hannibal to be with him, care for him and play with him, without either of them getting hurt.

He supposed, in a sense, that he could ask Hannibal to treat him differently. But where would be the fun in that? So that left Will with the beginnings of a different sort of game in his mind, a game he was not sure he would win. Nor was he sure he wanted to. Not when he could still feel those fingers ghosting against his skin. Each memory sent a hot pulse through his veins, sending blood way too south for his comfort.

So, here he was. Staring at his screen. Who would have thought researching the mechanics of gay sex would be so difficult? A lot of the stuff will found was fetishized bullshit, or not educative enough to give him what he needed.

He gave the screen an annoyed glance before slamming it closed. Will let himself fall back on the bed with a sigh.

Last night complicated things. It gave Will an entirely new game to play, and he would have been ecstatic, had he not felt so out of his depth.  

Will flung an arm over his eyes to block out the bright midday sun. It was strangely weird to consider Hannibal naked, without a suit on. It felt almost unnatural. Yet, the idea of Hannibal’s voice in his ear, his fingers pressing firmly against his skin, hands trailing over his own bared chest as the man took his fill of him… Yes.

Will peeked down at his crotch. His loose pants tented slightly. There was definitely interest there. He had locked himself up here to figure out just exactly where his interests lay, though he wasn’t sure he discovered the answer to that yet. After all, cruelty was a harsh mistress. Neither Hannibal nor he himself were a virgin to her, but that didn’t mean Will wanted to grant her a place in his plan.

No, if he was going to seduce Hannibal back into their games, he wanted to be sure it was what he wanted. A small smile tugged on the corner of Will’s lips. Maybe he would let Hannibal teach him the exact mechanics of a homosexual physical relationship. The other man would undoubtedly enjoy that. And if Will played it just right, he might get to indulge in some mutual manipulation beforehand. If he were honest, he wanted that as much as he wanted the sparring conversations, the easy silences, and the tender touches.

Mind made up, Will slung his legs from the bed and jumped up. He might as well get started.

He walked towards the atelier and knocked rapidly before he could lose his nerve.

There was a slight pause.

‘Come in,’ Hannibal said.

Will opened the door gently. He slipped inside the salon, eyes on the floor as he made his way to the edge of the room. Hannibal had set up on the edge of the room. The balcony doors were wide open, light spilling over paper and charcoal. A light breeze ruffled some papers, but Hannibal had secured them under a paperweight and didn’t seem bothered by the sound.

As Will approached, he noted the slight way Hannibal tensed when he neared, the way his hand seemed to halt mid-line. Will smiled, moving so he could sit down in the windowsill next to the balcony doors. The position brought him just to Hannibal’s left, which was good. The position didn’t allow for easy eye contact. It meant Will could lean back and close his eyes without being rude.  

‘Can I help you, William?’ Hannibal asked. His voice was neutral, easy to mistake as disinterested.

Will smiled. ‘No,’ he said. ‘But I was thinking I might help you.’

Silence, followed by paper being shifted around. Will opened his eyes just enough to watch Hannibal turn a page in his sketchbook.

‘How did you suppose to assist me, Will?’

‘Well-‘ Will shifted a bit, turning so his face caught the sun,’- here, we are Anthony and James. Painter and muse.’ He hesitated slightly before saying ‘muse’. In the eyes of many on this island, plaything would have been a better name. Seeing how Will had not done anything warranting the title of muse, he felt he had to agree.

‘And you also admitted just last night that you draw me.’

‘Well, it is prudent to remain in character,’ Hannibal said. He was hesitant, stretching out the words the way he did when Will caught him by surprise.

It was one of Will’s favorite sounds in the whole world.

‘True,’ he admitted. He opened his eyes, finally looking at Hannibal.

‘So, perhaps it is time I act like James as well.’

Hannibal blinked and tilted his head slightly. His eyes traveled from the top of Wills' head to the tips of his toes, oh so slowly.

Will’s blood seemed to travel south with Hannibal’s gaze. He fought the urge to smile. Having Hannibal look at him would not be a hardship. It might even solve some lingering doubts about his own actions.

Which was good.

Will had lived in doubt for far too long. He could do without.

‘Are you sure?’

Will suppressed a laugh. Hannibal’s face was focused, wonderfully exited and he seemed so very reluctant to ask. It was quite obvious he only did so because it would be rude not to.

And Hannibal Lecter would never be rude.

Unless, of course, you considered it rude to eat a livelong acquittance just because he skipped your dinner party without informing you beforehand.

But hey, to each their own.

‘Yes, Hannibal, I am sure. I hardly have any pressing matters to attend to.’ Will shrugged. ‘Sitting here is not a hardship.’

Not with you. Will left that part unsaid. For now.

‘In that case, I would be much obliged,’ Hannibal said. He smiled at Will, honest appreciation shining brightly in his eyes.

Will nodded. ‘Do you need me to move?’

Hannibal shook his head. ‘No, this will be fine. Though, if you could perhaps open the first button of your shirt?’

Will complied without a word and leaned back. He closed his eyes and let the sun warm his already heated body.

‘Just let me know if I need to do anything for you,’ he said. He had to suppress a grin as he felt Hannibal stutter at his suggestive tone.

After he let the silence go on for too long, Hannibal settled for a ‘Thank you, William’ just as the scratching of charcoal on paper filled the room once more.

And if Will smiled, just a little, like a cat that got the cream, well. Who could blame him?

Will sat for two hours before Hannibal tapped him on the shoulders and gently told him he was done for the day.

Will stretched, feeling every bit like a lazy cat.

‘Did you get what you needed?’ he asked innocently. The question sounded thoughtless, almost irrelevant in the way it left his lips, but Will watched Hannibal’s reaction carefully. The other man froze, just for a second, before he inclined his head.

‘Yes, Will. Thank you.’

Hannibal extended his hand towards Will. Normally, Will would rise and walk by him, snorting about the fact that he was not some old man who needed help.

A zing of electricity went through Will as he slid his fingers into Hannibal’s hand. Will breath caught. He kept his eyes on the floor as Hannibal pulled him up. He was not sure what they would reveal. Too much, too little, but nothing he wanted Hannibal to see right now.

If Hannibal found Will’s behavior strange, he showed no outward sign of it. Yet his fingers lingered a moment too long, longer than necessary. Perhaps even longer than was strictly polite, before Hannibal dropped his hand and started to clean his supplies.

‘When did you last eat?’

‘Whenever you last fed me,’ Will said to Hannibal’s back.

Hannibal rose. ‘Then you missed lunch,’ he said, raising his brows. ‘You should take better care of yourself.’

‘I thought it was your job to make sure I’m taken care of.’ The words slipped out and Will wanted to hit himself. Here he was, about a subtle as a pile of bricks. The innuendo must, however, been more subtle than Will thought for Hannibal didn’t respond to it. He probably never expected Will to flirt with him, as it was slightly out of his comfort zone.

Normally, he would have been right. But nothing Will ever did with Hannibal was normal, so why would his flirting be?

‘I do not think I can provide for you in every way, Will,’ Hannibal said. ‘You have never let me.’

‘True,’ Will admitted slyly. ‘Though you must admit your idea of care is unconventional, to say the least.’

Hannibal’s silence seemed to admit to the fact, even as the man himself was considering his words.

‘Perhaps, but I do think I would rather take care of you in a more… conventional manner, if you were to let me.’

Will nodded, slightly surprised by the fact that Hannibal didn’t defend his own ‘unconventional care’. They hadn’t spoken much of the past before, both content to let thing lie. Let them die, as it were. This, however, sounded as close to an apology as Hannibal could get.

Will reached out and softly stroked the older man’s shoulder as he brushed by Hannibal to make his way into the hallway.

Will turned to look back. ‘I think I might like that. So, what’s for dinner?’

This time, Hannibal didn’t hide his smile as he started a long soliloquy, describing their next meal.

 

\--

 

If Hannibal was surprised by the intricate moral debate Will started during dinner, he didn’t show it. Sure, he raised his brows, but that was a calculated act.

It might have made Will’s heart skip a beat, but he was pretty sure even Hannibal could not hear that.

Or so Will hoped.

‘I would have figured the continued existence of the death penalty would be complicated for you,’ Will said. ‘On one hand, you are no stranger to meeting out something akin to a death sentence. On the other hand, it might well be your faith one day.’

‘Hardly, as I do not intend for us to be captured,’ Hannibal pointed out.

‘Not alive, perhaps,’ Will said. He ate some of the grilled fish he had gutted. His grace with the filleting knife had set embers to smolder in Hannibal’s eyes. Having decided not to lie to himself after his most recent near-death experience, Will found he was man enough to admit he liked it. Who, after all, did not like to feel desired?

Hannibal nodded and seemingly mused over his thoughts. ‘I am not against capital punishment. Some crimes are so heinous, they should be punished accordingly.’

‘Some would say death is too brief a punishment.’

‘I agree. Yet most humans view it as the worst punishment.’

Will lay down his fork and stared at his plate. ‘Not you.’ No doubt in his voice. ‘You believe there are worse things than death.’

Hannibal nodded. ‘I do, yes. One could be wasted. Or forgotten.’

‘Or hurt.’ Will pointed out.

‘Yes,’ Hannibal conceded. ‘There are in fact many manners in which we can punish felons. Death is not the most horrid one, nor should it be. However, most people seem to think of it as such.’

Will nodded. He wondered if Hannibal was now struggling with the same question he had floating in his mind. Was death the most horrid punishment? Will knew it wasn’t and he had to admit to that. However. What then had he tried to do? What did you do, William, when you pushed us off the cliff. What was your desire? To punish?

Will closed his eyes, shut out the sound of Hannibal getting up, and waded into his stream towards the stag. Touching the feathers on his flank, Will stroked the stag.

I didn’t want to punish us, he whispered to his beast. I just wanted to end us.

The stag shook his head. His antlers nearly clipped Will. He quickly jumped back, his eyes catching the enchanting black depths of the animals' own.

Skepticism and judgment twirled in the depts.

His stag told him he was lying. He wasn’t. Not really. He had wanted to end them. The idea had been power, strong.

And secondary to the far more powerful notion of them. Of being together.  

He closed his eyes and waded back into the stream.

‘Don’t leave me,’ he whispered to the stag. Will stretched out his hand, but the creature remained aloof. His eyes were accusing, harsh. Liar, they seemed to say. Will approached the stag slowly, as slow as his panic would allow. When he reached the edge of the river, Will knelt in front of his monster.

He rose, moving towards the stairs, keeping his back to the kitchen, to Hannibal.

‘I pushed us off because I couldn’t live without you,’ Will whispered. To the stag, to Hannibal. He didn’t stay to hear Hannibal’s reaction, moving up the stairs as quickly as his legs could carry him.

In his mind palace, a feathered head pushed into his hands and Will sat there, by the river, stroking his beast. He felt more than heard Hannibal leave the house, felt the panic at being left course through his body.

 

He fell asleep two hours later, mere seconds after Hannibal walked back into the house and Will heard the door fall shut behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Thank you all very much for your kudos and comments, they mean the world to me!!! Third chapter, and we're slowly coming up to the E-rates stuff ;) As always, please let me know what you think, I love to hear from you!


	4. Becoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will further temps Hannibal, trying to get him to play a new sort of game together. Unfortunately, no game is without rules and Will finds himself unsure of the boundaries he can push.

 

The sweet smell of summer, mixed with the delightful odor of coffee, woke Will the next morning. He stretched, lazily, before he remembered the events of the night before. A slight panic hit him. He hadn’t meant for such honesty, not so soon in the game.

And yet.

Wil forced himself to relax back into the pillows. Would Hannibal really play with him if this conversation hadn’t happened? Their fall had never been discussed and lay between them like a rotting corpse. They were both apt at ignoring it, yet the stench filled the room. Now this, his reasoning, was out in the open at last. Of course, he wasn’t sure of Hannibal’s reaction, had purposefully derived himself of that.

Which meant he was now at a disadvantage.

Will felt the gears of his mind working, thinking up a multitude of maneuvers to give him an edge in their upcoming confrontation. He rolled onto his side, lost in thought, when a flash of deep blue caught his gaze. A smile stretched his lips, and Will rose carefully, predatory.

Could it really be that easy?

 

As usual, Hannibal had left a cup of coffee and some breakfast in the kitchen for him. Will ate the food, delicious as always, and poured himself a cup of coffee before heading back upstairs. Hannibal sat in the atelier, carefully working on a sketch. Lost in his art, not in the least disturbed by Will’s footsteps, just as Will liked him.

Will carefully padded into to room, up towards the windowsill he occupied yesterday.

‘Where do you want me?’ he asked, keeping his tone carefully neutral.

‘Just sit over…’ Hannibal fell silent abruptly and Will had to force himself to count to three before turning, not wanting to seem too eager.

Hannibal sat frozen. As Will turned, he made a visible effort to recuperate and, to Will’s delight, failed miserably. His gaze was stuck on the edge of Will’s blue, silk robe. It barely hit him mid-tight, draping loosely around his frame, tied with a belt in the same deep color. When Hannibal had bought him the robe, which included a matching pair of trousers Will had ‘forgotten’ to wear, Will had scoffed and said Hannibal was being ridiculous. He had tossed the set in his closet, where it had stayed for weeks. Until Hannibal had gone shopping on the mainland, leaving Will for a single night.

Panicked and desperate for sleep to end Hannibal’s absence, Will had taken the robe from the closet and put it on. To his surprise, the smooth fabric cooled his overheated skin. Adding to that, the robe was so Hannibal, so decadent and over-the-top, that Will had slept soundly despite the other man’s absence.

He had worn the robe multiple times since that night, though never where Hannibal could see it. And certainly not clean-shaven, with his hair carefully brushed to fall into soft curls around his face.

‘Oh,’ Will said, looking down at the robe. ‘Should I put on the same clothes as yesterday?’

‘No.’ Hannibal’s answer was far curter than he must have wanted, for he coughed slightly. ‘Unless, of course, you desire to do so. I would not want you uncomfortable.’

Sure he wouldn’t. Will fought the desire to roll his eyes.

‘I’m fine,’ he said instead. ‘You were right, the fabric is very comfortable.’ He trailed his fingers down the edge of the robe, over his chest and down, down, down until he reached his hips. His gaze, however, was firmly on Hannibal and it took everything he had to suppress a cat-like grin when he watched Hannibal struggle and fail to keep his eyes off Will’s hand.

Will never had the biggest ego, but Hannibal sure was stroking it good. He stilled his hand at the hip, looking coyly at his favorite sparring partner.

Hannibal rose, stalking over towards Will. Will stood still, not moving a muscle, luring Hannibal closer and closer still.

Just a moment, a breath before Hannibal would be able to touch him, Will stepped back. He leaned into the window, tucking his legs underneath him.

‘It this okay?’ Will asked.

Hannibal’s eyes flashed, and he advanced on Will in a single, large step. He trailed his eyes over Will form and Will’s breath stalled when he reached out and, with sure hands, arranged the robe to fall more elegantly around him. It slipped slightly, laying a single shoulder bare. Will raised his head to look at Hannibal, but made no attempt to cover his shape.

Even if he had had the inclination, it would have disappeared entirely at the pure fire in Hannibal’s eyes.

‘If you enjoy the robe, might you allow me to acquire another for you?’ Hannibal asked, his voice just a little hoarse, softly touching his finger to Will’s cheek. ‘It would please me greatly.’

Will’s heart skipped a beat and he felt his face flush slightly. He wanted to say yes, thank you. He wanted to taunt Hannibal, to say ‘no’ just to see what he would do. He wanted it all.

‘If you want to,’ he said instead, forcing himself to tilt his head up, away from the warm burn of Hannibal’s touch.

Hannibal’s smile was pure predator, dangerous and thrilling. To his horror, Will felt himself tremble and a soft, breathy sound escaped his lips. His blood was flowing decidedly south.

No, no, no.

Will closed his eyes and leaned against the window. He closed Hannibal’s monumental presence from his mind and focused on all things gross. Jack shouting orders. Freddie’s cloying presence.

Down boy, Will thought. Down.

When he opened his eyes again, erection seemingly under control, Hannibal had retaken his position in the corner of the room.

‘Can you hold this position, William?’ Hannibal asked, already tracing charcoal on paper.

Will hummed, relaxing his body against the window frame.

Time slipped by as Will watched Hannibal draw. Once every while, Hannibal would look up, stare at Will for a longer time and smile gently in an approval that sends Will’s heart’s aflutter.  

Near to noon, Hannibal lay down his sketchbook. The soft thump of the sketchbook hitting the glass table jarred Will from the pleasant slumber his mind was in. Hannibal advanced on him, stretching out his hand.

‘Would you like some lunch, William?’

‘Hmm.’ Will stretched, feeling a little like a lazy cat.

A cat slowly getting his cream, from the look of Hannibal.

‘Yeah,’ he drawled. ‘I would love to. Should probably change first, though. If Mrs. Alvaraz saw me like this, she would be quite shocked.’

‘As would anyone who saw you,’ Hannibal said. He frowned, seemingly displeased by the idea.

‘Go on then, change. I’ll prepare something light to eat.’

‘And coffee?’ Will asked, looked up at Hannibal.

‘Of course,’ Hannibal nodded. ‘You only need to ask.’

Will grinned and, forsaking Hannibal’s hand once more, he strode from the atelier towards his room.

 

 

Lunch passed in comfortable silence, both men content to sip their drinks and eat their food in the comfort of the shade. Every now and then, Will felt Hannibal’s gaze linger on him and he could taste his confusion in the air. It was to be expected, of course. Will had been slumbering, mentally, for months. He had allowed Hannibal to smother him, to maintain the status quo. Now, suddenly, Will was changing the game, fishing for Hannibal, luring him closer and closer. Hannibal was, obviously, aware of the game they were playing. Or, at least, he was aware they were playing _a_ game. He did not seem to know the rules and If Will guessed correctly, it was driving him insane.

Hannibal liked playing games. He just wanted them to be _his_ games.

‘Anthony?’ Mrs. Alvarez walked into the garden, carrying a small basket.

Will breathed in and slipped on Jamie as if it were another shirt. A shirt not entirely ill-fitted for his current game.

Will leaned over and lay his hand on Hannibal’s knee. ‘Going shopping again, darlin’?’

‘Yes, as it were. Would you care to join us?’

Will shook his head. ‘No, I think I will go for a walk.’ He rose and stretched.

‘Have fun shopping, cher,’ Will said. He bent over, and before Hannibal even realized what happened, Will gently brushed his lips over his.

They were soft, softer than Will could have imagined, yet strong and powerful and it took every single piece of determination for Will to pull away.

He stood up and turned.

‘Have a good trip, Mrs. Alvarez,’ he said to the older woman, inclining his head in greeting.

‘Thank you, Jamie,’ the woman said. She smiled, and her entire face smiled with her, the crinkles in her eyes and mouth showing years of joy. ‘Do promise to join us one day. You would make an old lady very happy.’ She looked over at Hannibal. ‘And not just an old lady, I think.’

Will laughed. ‘I will consider it.’

He walked out the garden, past the vegetables Hannibal had planted there, and onto a small, sandy road. It was his preferred route, crossing a large part of the island while never going too near the ocean. It had taken Will some weeks to discover it, and now he loved to stray from time to time, going on backroads and mapping every little piece of the island. Normally, it would take him an hour or two, at most, arriving back home around the same time as Hannibal. Will knew it was a purposeful, if perhaps unconscious, decision. He wanted to be home for Hannibal, with Hannibal. Because it felt peaceful. Because it felt safe.

Today, he made a very deliberate effort not to be home on time. He strayed, wandering, and when the sun got too hot, he accepted a glass of juice at Mr. and Mrs. Famosa’s. Their small bar was open despite the hour, mostly due to the game that was playing on the television in the corner. Will made small talk with Mr. Famosa, ignoring the side-eye he got from some of the other patrons.

Stuff like that had bothered him, at first. The hissed comments, the foul glances. Not because it did any harm, nor because he never been on the receiving end of such treatment before. No, it had bothered him because he had seen it as untrue.

Now, his mind full of Hannibal, his touch, his scent, the heat of his skin, his voice whispering his name, Will just couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted what they accused him of, so let them look.

It helped, in a sense, that Will knew it would take so little to shut them up forever.

Finally, when it was near six in the afternoon, Will paid and made his way back home. The sun still shone more than high enough to light the way and Will was in no hurry to walk back. Perhaps it was cruel to make Hannibal wait like this, but Will needed time to cool down, to let Hannibal wonder about the game they were playing.

Absence, as they said, made the heart grow fonder.

It had never been more true in their case.

 

When Will neared their shared home, it was closer to seven, though he made sure to arrive before the hour went any later. Hannibal had taken to serving dinner at exactly 7:30 pm and Will would never be late for dinner. Not even for a game would he be so rude.

As expected, Hannibal was in the kitchen.

‘Anthony?’ Will called from the garden. ‘I’m home.’

Hannibal didn’t turn, seemingly absorbed in his cooking. Will walked into their home, careful to close the screen behind him.

‘Hannibal?’ he said, softer now.

Again, no response. Will frowned and moved into the kitchen. Soft, spicy aromas waved around him in greeting, caressing his nostrils.

He took a deep breath. ‘That smells good,’ he said.

‘Thank you.’

The hair on the back of Will’s neck rose. It had been a long time since Hannibal had last sounded so distant and cold. Will immediately realized something was wrong or, better said, he had miscalculated greatly.

‘Hannibal? Can I help with anything?’ he asked, testing the waters.

‘You can change. You smell atrocious.’

Will lifted his arm, carefully sniffing his shirt. It smelled slightly of cigar smoke, the kind Famosa’s patrons favored.

‘Of course. Do I have time to shower before dinner?’ A soft mantra in his head, a hundred voiced telling Will to _tread carefully_. Not that he was afraid of Hannibal. He had long passed that stadium. He was, however, concerned he had ruined their game before it had properly begun. And that, simply, wouldn’t do.

‘You do. Dinner will be served in half an hour.’

‘Thank you,’ Will said. He walked towards his own room, intending to make a beeline for the shower. He opened his door and found a paper-wrapped package on the bed. It was laid neatly on his cover, soft and inviting. Clothes, from the look of it. Will’s fingers itched to open it and was halfway to it when he forced himself to pull back. If he opened his gift now, he would only stain the item with his current scent and that wouldn’t do.

With a soft groan, Will made for the shower, shoving his clothes into the hamper as he went. He made sure to wash thoroughly in as short a time as possible, using the body wash Hannibal had bought him when they had just arrived on the island. Its scent was indiscernible to Will and he had never asked what Hannibal thought it smelled like, but it was obvious the other man liked it better than the dollar-store wash Will had used when he still lived in the States.

He quickly dried his body and pulled his hair back in a ponytail. Tower still around his waist, Will made for the package, ripping away the wrapping.

Two things fell out. Another soft robe, this one a shimmering bloodred, and a shirt. Will left the robe on his bed and picked the shirt. It was, to his surprise, something he would actually pick for himself. If he had been able to afford the prize, which he doubted. The shirt felt tailored and soft in his hands. The fabric seemed to be a light cotton, of which Will had no doubt it would be Egyptian or some nonsense, and was painted a very light blue. The seams were just a few tints darker, giving the shirt an overall stylish effect without being gaudy. There were no labels in the shirt, nothing to indicate prize.

Deciding he didn’t care, Will slipped the shirt over his head.

It felt cool and pleasant on his skin, fitted without being tight. Steeling himself with a deep breath, Will turned to look into the mirror.

He halted, blinked and turned to view the shirt from the side.

He looked… Well. Good. There really was no other word for it.

A glance at the clock told Will he had to hurry, so he grabbed a pair of grey slacks from his wardrobe, checking briefly if they didn’t clash too badly before he walked down the stairs barefooted. Just in time, as Hannibal  put steaming plates on the table which already held a large, whole fish. He looked up when Will came in, but no smile colored his features.

Will clenched his hands and sat down at the table.

Hannibal motioned at Will's plate before grabbing his utensils. Unsure what else to do, Will followed his lead. He felt tense, like a chicken led to slaughter, but he would not needle Hannibal. If something was wrong, the other man was damn sure old enough to ask him.

The question wasn’t long coming.

‘Do you regret coming here?’ Hannibal asked.

Will faltered. He had not expected that question at all, not now, not when Hannibal was always so sure of himself. Then again, maybe it was not himself that Hannibal was doubting.

Will took a deep breath and let his eyes follow Hannibal’s hands as they cut a part of the meal. ‘Why?’

‘Why what, William?’ Hannibal shot back.

‘Why ask this now.’

‘I suppose I inquired because it crossed my mind to ask.’ Hannibal grabbed a large knife and observed the fish. Without a word, Will plucked the knife from Hannibal’s fingers.

‘And I suppose that we are, again, merely having a simple conversation?’ Will asked, amused sarcasm  clinging to his every word. He angled the knife, cutting the fish in calm, routine movements.

‘No.’ Hannibal cocked his head slightly. ‘No, I do not believe we are. Nor that we ever had anything resembling a simple conversation.’

Will straightened slightly, his knife embedded in the fish. ‘I guess,’ he said, slightly baffled about Hannibal’s concession. He continued his work in silence, leaving two beautifully cleaned pieces of fish on one side, and the head and bones of the fish on the other. He knew from experience that Hannibal might want to make a broth or soup out of them. After all, throwing away part of the fish made it murder. Something this particular animal did not deserve.  

Hannibal opened a bottle of dry white he had put on the table, pouring Will some. Will nodded his thanks and started to eat.

The first bite exploded on Will tongue in a myriad of flavors. Lemon, thyme and a dozen other things he didn’t care to decipher.

‘It’s delicious,’ he said. Hannibal smiled, pleased despite himself at this routine but sincere compliment. It would have been easy to fall back into another routine. A conversation, perhaps, about evolution. Or the distinct advantages and disadvantages of hunting intelligent prey. Yet this would feel like running and while Will was not above some manipulation, he had come to despise the very idea of the coward’s way out.

‘Where else would I have gone?’ he said. He wondered how Hannibal would take the question.

Hannibal’s fork halted halfway to his mouth. Not surprised, per se, that Will had moved back on topic but slightly caught of guard by the directness of it. Slowly, Hannibal lay his knife and fork on his plate.

‘You always have a choice, Will,’ he said, kindly.

Will fought back the urge to throw something at Hannibal. He hated that tone. It was the way Hannibal’s person-suit spoke. It was Anthony. Kind, gentle, a well-mannered and cultured friend. A nice enough persona, but Will didn’t want a fake. He would have stayed in the States if that was his desire.

Will took another bite, chewing thoughtfully.

‘So If I wanted to go back, in the hypothetical scenario where that is even an option… Would you take me there? Back to D.C., if I so wished?’ Will kept his eyes on Hannibal.

Hannibal’s hand clenched around his knife.

It was a minute gesture. Will noticed it anyway.

‘If you really desired so,’ Hannibal enunciated carefully, ‘Then, as your friend, it would be my duty to do anything in my power to make your wish come to fruition.’

Will couldn’t help it. A short, cold laugh escaped his lips. Hannibal raised his eyebrows slightly, but made no comment as Will shoved his plate aside and reached out to clasp his hand over Hannibal’s. The knife balanced between their fingers, the sharp edge pointed at Will’s hand.

‘Don’t lie to me,’ Will hissed. ‘You will sooner take this knife and cut both our throats than you would let me go. You sit here, upset because I was late, angry for it, and you claim to let me go? Liar.’ He enunciated that last word carefully, hissing it with all his fury, all the cropped up frustration he had accumulated in these last few months.

A hint of a smile and something a lot less innocent flashed in Hannibal Lecter’s eyes. With deft fingers, he plucked the knife from their combined grasp. Instead of letting go of Will’s hand, he entwined their fingers. With a sharp tug, he pulled Will’s arm taunt across their narrow kitchen table. Will watched, fascinated, enraptured, as Hannibal lifted his fingers to his lips. When they were close enough for Will to feel Hannibal’s breath ghosting over his fingers, Hannibal stopped. He looked at Will through hooded eyelids.

‘Where you to leave me, dear William, I would not be so mundane as to cut your lovely throat.’

Will felt his own breathing falter, stuttering in time with his heart, as he fell into Hannibal’s eyes and saw.

Hannibal turned Will’s hand around, his long fingers stroking across his skin just a bit too hard to be called gentle.

‘I would turn you into a masterpiece, the likes of which the world has never seen, nor will ever see again.’ Warmth washed over Will’s wrist and he saw everything. Hannibal’s every word, the design he would so masterfully paint, using everything Will could give him.

‘Yet, I must confess,’ Hannibal whispered against Will’s skin. ‘Even with all my considerate abilities, I fear I could not do justice to your magnificence.’

His lips pressed lightly against the inside of his wrist. A sweet, warm caress so deeply in contrast with the fire in Hannibal’s eyes and yet such a perfect embodiment of it. Millions of nerve endings in his skin and Will felt all of them. Something soft licked at his pulse and Will fought back a moan as heath spread through his veins. He wondered if the smug bastard could hear, smell, feel what he was doing to him.

Will smirked and he pulled his wrist loose with some force.

Hannibal couldn’t stop the slight surprise from growing visible as Will moved his chair back and walked around the table to stand in front of him.

Will reached out slowly, as he would a stray dog, giving Hannibal all the time in the world to draw back. He didn’t. Like Will had known he would. Will trailed his fingers over sharp cheekbones before letting his hand cradle Hannibal’s face. That is when he looked at Hannibal, showed him the fire in his eyes to match Hannibal’s own.

‘I am here,’ Will spoke clearly, ‘because this is where I chose to be. I will never leave you. Not by choice.’

He let himself fall to his knees in front of Hannibal. A slightly widening of the other man’s eyes were the only things that betray his shock. Will ignored it. He let his hand trail over Hannibal’s jaw, neck, arm until he could clasp those gorgeous hands into his own.

‘You made your choice on that cliff,’ Hannibal stated. Asked.

‘Yes,’ Will breathed, realizing that Hannibal might be human in this regard. Might need confirmation after all.

‘Together, Hannibal. Together, or not at all.’ Will spoke the words, this vow, as clearly as he could.  He bent his head and pressed his lips against Hannibal’s hand. In that moment, he was a knight vowing loyalty to his king, a worshipper in front of his God.

Will wondered, sometimes, if even Hannibal was arrogant enough to know what he exactly meant to him.

‘My beautiful boy.’ Hannibal pulled him up, drawing him close as they both rose. And Will nearly drowned at what he saw in those burning eyes. If Will was kneeling in front of his God then Hannibal was a man staring at his entire universe. Will’s breath caught and they moved forward at the same time, a synchronized heartbeat pulsating through his body as Hannibal’s lips finally, finally met Will’s own.  Soft, thin lips touched his own, more gently that he would have thought. Maybe even more gentle than he wanted them to be.

Will arched his back as Hannibal’s fingers tangled into his curls, pulling back ever so slightly as he drew Will further into their kiss. When he opened his mouth to breathe, Hannibal pushed his tongue between his lips and for just a second, Will entertained the idea of fighting for dominance. The notion flitted through his brain, shattering as he pushed his own body flush against Hannibal’s. He drew the older man close, until not even a whisper of air separated them. His own hands found Hannibal’s neck and he tugged him further into the kiss, drawing him in. Hannibal moaned into his mouth, and Will realized dominance was an abstract thing.

Hannibal drew back, tracing first his lips, then his fingers over Will’s mouth as if it was the finest meal he had ever sampled. Will let him. He stood frozen in time, unable to do anything but breathe in the air that escaped Hannibal’s lungs.

‘Did you make dessert?’ Will asked. He barely recognized his own voice, breathless as it was.

‘It will keep,’ Hannibal said. ‘If you want it to.’

The last bit was added carefully enough that Will stepped back to look Hannibal into his eyes.

‘Do you want it to keep?’ Will asked. He didn’t touch Hannibal now, nor Hannibal him. A wordless agreement that this was not something they desired to manipulate. Yet.

Hannibal considered his words for a bit. He let his hands wander into the routine movement of cleaning, stacking up the plates and carrying them into the kitchen. He knew without asking that Will would follow. They cleaned together, quickly but in silence. The setting sun shone onto Will’s long curls, giving his beautiful avenging angel an presence so other, Hannibal couldn’t help but wonder. Where he to touch Will now, would the man disappear? Vanish into the vast crooks and corners of Hannibal’s mind palace, a fragment of his own imagination. If so, Hannibal didn’t think he could bear it.

‘I will have you, any way you want to give yourself to me,’ Hannibal said. It wasn’t a cultured answered, but it was honest and true. It was his heart speaking.

Will considered this. ‘Even if I only ever wanted to be, well, to be friends?’ Hannibal felt his own lips tug up in mirror of Will’s own.

‘We have never been friends,’ he said.

‘No,’ Will admitted. ‘We were always so much more.’

Hannibal inclined his head. ‘Yes. That being said, if you never desire a more physical intimacy, then I will respect your decision. After everything, I am sure I would survive that much.’

Will laughed. He couldn’t help it.

‘You always desired to take me apart, to devour me,’ he said. With each word that left his lips, he moved a fraction closer to Hannibal, immersed himself just that tiny bit more into the other man’s personal space.

‘I think,’ Will whispered. ‘I think I might let you.’

Hannibal flung the cleaning towel into the sink and grabbed Will. His arms circled Will’s waist and there was such a strength to them. Will knew Hannibal was strong. He had felt it on multiple occasions, both good and bad. But this…

Will knew he could become addicted to the safe press of Hannibal’s arms.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer than the others, but I simply couldn't find a good cut-off point. I also changed the layout a bit. Let me know what you think! I love hearing from you guys! The next chapter is one of the E-rated ones ;)


	5. Wanting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so from here on this story will be more deserving of its E-rating! Watch for updates tags.

Will pressed his whole body flush against Hannibal’s, reveling in the way his eyes widened just that little bit.

Yes, Will figured he would allow Hannibal to take him apart in this particular way.

Hannibal bent forward, resting his head against Will’s curls. He breathed in, letting Will’s scent to fill his lungs.

‘Dear boy,’ he whispered, ‘you should not permit me such things.’

Will shivered, his heart skipping a beat at the endearment.

‘You once told me you would give me everything. Anything,’ he said. ‘Maybe this is what I want.’

A soft noise left Hannibal’s lips, a groan or moan, something in between. The sound enchanted Will. He needed to hear more, needed to see Hannibal come undone.

‘Don’t tease me like this, mylimasis,’ Hannibal muttered, moving back a bit, reluctance coloring his every gesture. ‘I’m not sure I could bear it.’

Seemingly despite himself, he pressed the slightest kiss, barely more than a touch of lips, against Will’s own before drawing back.

Will chased Hannibal’s breath, following his lips. He pressed tiny kisses against subtle flesh. Stubble tickled his lips but, surprisingly, he found he liked it. More than liked it. There was something about the roughness, the pure masculinity of it that made Will’s cock fill.

‘Don’t stop,’ Will said. ‘If you ever cared for me at all, don’t you dare fucking stop.’

‘Will,’ Hannibal said, with no lack of urgency. ‘If we do this… Promise me. Promise me you will tell me to stop, whenever you need to.’ A soft brokenness entered Hannibal’s voice. ‘I will not lose you over this.’

‘I will,’ Will promised. ‘And you won’t.’

He took Hannibal’s hands, walking backward out of the kitchen. He kept his eyes on Hannibal, staying with him in this moment as they entered the living room. Will didn’t bother to turn on the lights. The setting sun shone brightly through the window, painting the room in deep pinks and red, long shades and soft, fiery light. Will moved, weaving them through the room until he hit the couch. It had been there when they moved in, ridiculously large and decadent in such a Hannibal-esque way, Will had known immediately the man must have played an important role in decorating this particular safe house.

Will was already moving down, intended on settling Hannibal down next to him, when he changed his mind. He leaned back, lying down on the soft cushion, pulling Hannibal down on top of him.

Will couldn’t help but laugh at the look on Hannibal’s face, the thinly-veiled surprise. Anyone else might have said Hannibal looked only mildly interested, but not Will. He had learned to look behind Hannibal’s mask a long time ago.

And now, he didn’t want Hannibal’s mask at all.

‘Kiss me,’ Will said, demanded. He kept his tone forceful and sure, scared that Hannibal might stop if he didn’t. Maybe, hopefully, Hannibal wouldn’t need it after tonight. Will sure as fuck didn’t know enough to take the reins in their new, more physical relationship. Nor was he entirely sure he wanted to, but that was not a discussion he wanted to have tonight.

‘Kiss me,’ he whispered again, arching his head up, while at the same time pulling Hannibal’s down to meet him.

Their lips met, and this time Will didn’t fight the moan escaping his lips at the firm press, the heat and rough stubble caressing his own. His mouth opened and Hannibal took the opportunity to deepen their kiss, pressing  Will back into the couch. With one hand, he tilted Will’s head back. His fingers pressed delightfully firm underneath Will’s chin, the other hand reaching for his brown curls. Hannibal’s tongue mapped the inside of Will’s mouth, inciting the younger man to tangle with him, overpowering and addictive.

Never, in all his life, had Will been kissed like this. It was better than the headiest scotch, better than breathing. He met each of Hannibal’s movements, passion clouding his mind until the need to breathe overtook him. He pulled back, just enough to catch his breath, loathe to break their contact more than absolutely necessary.

Hannibal pulled Will’s head back, tugging on his curls until he gasped. His eyes were pure fire, but something seemed off.

Hannibal still appeared wary, calculating as he released Will’s chin to train fingers over lips, cheek, neck. He was restraining himself.

Fury flared in Will, threatening to push through the hazy arousal. No. Hannibal would not keep himself back. Not now.

Part of Will wanted to push Hannibal back, to straddle him and take what he needed from the other man. A larger part, however, needed Hannibal in control. Needed the other man to let go, to realize he would not break Will. To teach Will in this as he had in so many other aspects.

So, Will trailed his hands gently over Hannibal’s face, past his arms until they left his form completely. He let his arms rest above his head, stretched out like a lamb for slaughter.

‘Please,’ Will begged softly. ‘Please.’

Hannibal hung his head, allowing his forehead to touch Will’s. Beautiful, marvelous Will, whose eyes were focused solely on him. His pupils were blown wide and Hannibal could smell the true, unfiltered desire coming off him in increasingly potent waves.

‘Tell me when you want to stop,’ Hannibal forced himself to say.

Will simply responded by arching his back, pressing his body wantonly into Hannibal. Their groins connected and Will felt just how much Hannibal wanted him. He rolled his hips and Hannibal hissed at their clothed cocks touched. It was everything.

It was nowhere near enough.

Hannibal’s hand shot out, pinning Will’s hands above his head, the other stilling his hips.

‘Promise me,’ he bit out.

‘Why?’ Will asked sweetly. ‘It’s not like you’re doing anything.’

Hannibal laughed darkly. ‘Taunts will get you nowhere, my darling boy.’

Pleasure flooded Will at the words. ‘What will, then?’ Anything to get this party moving. To get Hannibal to touch him more. Will pushed his hips upwards but found Hannibal’s grip too strong. Hannibal tightened his grip, pulling the fabric of his slacks uncomfortably taunt over his already aching cock. It hurt, just a little, and Will hissed as he felt his cock leak, a small spot now darkening the gray of his pants. Hannibal’s eyes blew wide, his nostrils flaring as he filled his lungs with the scent of Will’s desire.

His lips touched Will’s briefly before trailing down, sucking and kissing at Will’s jaw and lower still, following Will’s pulse. He nipped harshly at the pulsing arteries in his neck, the action making Will’s cock jump.

‘Ah.’ Will’s breath escaped him and he raised his hand to hold Hannibal’s head in place.

‘No, no,’ Hannibal tutted, releasing Will’s neck abruptly. He grabbed Will’s hand and pushed it back into place. ‘Be good now, William. Unless, of course, you want me to stop?’

‘You smug bastard.’

Hannibal raised a brow and Will yelped at the sudden pain that flared through his bottom. Hannibal had pinched him. The fucking bastard had pinched him!

‘You fucking sadist!’ But it came out nowhere near convincing. Will’s voice was breathy and hoarse and he was, undeniably, achingly hard.

Hannibal laughed. ‘You seem to enjoy it, darling.’ He lay a hand over Will’s crotch and pressed down. Will’s breath halted in his throat at the sudden attention and he arched into the touch as Hannibal cruelly ground his hand into him.

‘Oh god, Hannibal. Please.’

‘Please what, William?’

Will looked up at Hannibal. The red sun painted him every bit the otherworldly demon and in this instance, Will knew why someone would sell his soul to the devil. If they had been only half as handsome, as compelling, it seemed only natural.

‘Please touch me,’ he whispered, peeking up through half-closed eyelids in an attempt to seduce Hannibal into doing his will.  

‘I am touching you,’ Hannibal said, but he took mercy on the man under him. Expert fingers undid the buttons of Will’s slacks as he dropped his mouth to Will’s again, effectively taking his breath away.

Will pants fell open and Hannibal shoved them down, with Will enthusiastically lifting his hips to help.

The first touch of Hannibal’s cool fingers on Will’s heated cock felt like a benediction. Will sobbed into their kiss, fighting the urge to move his hand and bring himself some relief as Hannibal teased the tip. Fingers trailed over him, far too softly. Just as Will wanted to break loose, to explain he was not some fragile, easily broken toy, Hannibal tightened his grip, teasing a nail lightly into the slit.

‘Ah!’ Will arched his back. His fingers clawed at the fabric above him, grabbing onto the edge of a pillow and squeezing for his life.

‘That’s it,’ Hannibal whispered, as he trailed kissed down Will’s jaw. His grip was firmer now, his hand moving up and down the shaft of his cock. It was dry, rough, slightly painful, but all the more sensational for it. Will’s breath came in soft sobs, as he arched both into Hannibal’s touch and away from it.

‘That’s it,’ Hannibal whispered over his skin. ‘Let go, darling. I’ve got you.’ His hand traveled lower, touching Will’s balls, then the skin behind it. He leaned back slightly and lowered his other hand to grasp Will’s cock, twisting up and down in a grueling pace. Firm fingers found his perineum, and Will cried out as sharp pleasure coursed through him. Hannibal continued his movements and Will’s mind went blank. There was nothing but Hannibal, his touch, his scent, his voice.

‘You look so beautiful like this, my dear William.’ Hannibal’s voice filled his mind, drowning out everything else. ‘I’ve never seen a more exquisite creature. Show me, darling. Come for me.’

Will sobbed, shaking his head from side to side as Hannibal’s voice tipped him over the edge. The pulsing heat in his stomach broke as thick spurts of cum erupted from him, straining his new shirt. Hannibal worked him through it, his hand working up and down until Will wanted to beg him to stop.

‘Please,’ he said, begged, overstimulated and feeling raw. ‘Please.’

Hannibal slowed his movements but didn’t stop until he milked every last drop of cum from Will. He fisted Will’s hair, breathing hard and keeping his dirty hand hanging above them. Without considering it, Will grabbed that hand and brought it between his lips. He licked Hannibal’s hand clean of his own essence, lapping at each finger individually as Hannibal watched in utmost fascination.

‘You never cease to surprise me,’ he said. ‘My darling boy.’

Will smirked, lazily, and pulled Hannibal’s head down, kissing him roughly to share the taste.

This time, it was Hannibal who moaned, Hannibal who pushed his hips into Will. Will smiled into the kiss before deepening it. His fingers fumbled with the buttons of Hannibal’s pants and Will groaned as Hannibal joined him, pulling his pants down roughly as Will immediately pushed his hand into Hannibal’s silk boxers.

Hannibal’s cock pulsed thickly into Will’s hand. He traced the veins, feeling Hannibal’s heartbeat through it. He was big, probably slightly bigger than Will himself, and uncut. Will traced his thumb over the foreskin, fascinated by the feel of it, before he pushed it back to reveal the head.

‘Will.’ Hannibal breathed his name like a prayer. ‘Please, mylimasis. You don’t have to…’

Will reached up, silencing Hannibal’s lips with his own.

 ‘I want to,’ he breathed. With his free hand, he grabbed Hannibal’s, guiding it towards the man’s own cock.

‘Show me how,’ Will said.

Hannibal groaned but put his hand over Will’s, showing him just how firmly to grip him. It felt rough. Will pulled back and used his hands to gather his own cum off his belly, before wrapping his fingers around Hannibal’s cock once more. It felt naughty, forbidden even, to use his own fluids as lube, but Hannibal seemed to love him all the more for it. He set a grueling pace, their joint hands sliding and squeezing forcefully.  

Hannibal, however, wasn’t complaining.

‘William,’ he breathed, as his cock pulsed and spilled in Will’s hand. Will gently kept up his touches, pulling back when Hannibal hissed slightly.

His hand was covered in cum and Will considered it for a moment before trailing his cum-strained fingers over Hannibal’s lips. Hannibal barely hesitated him, opening his mouth to gently suck Will’s fingers inside. His teeth gazed them as Hannibal sucked him clean. Will allowed it, warm and fuzzy from his orgasm, before he pulled his fingers free. He pulled Hannibal’s head down, laughing as he kissed him, tasting himself and Hannibal together, a heady mix of flavors he would never have imagined to be as arousing as they were.

They kissed languidly for moments, minutes. There was no urgency behind their touches now, just the simple buzzing pleasure of being truly close to another person, the elongation of a warmth they had so recently shared.

After a while, Will grunted a little, finding the press of Hannibal’s body heavier than a moment before and Hannibal, ever the gentleman, moved off him. With flippant ease, he turned them around so that Will was now laying on top of him. Suppressing a smile, Will hid his face in Hannibal’s chest. He felt his body relax even more, beyond what he thought himself to capable of. It was a delightfully heady feeling, and one Will wouldn’t change for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Hannibal is a bit insecure, but he won't be for long! Let me know what you think, your kudo's and comments make my day <3


	6. Loving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will wakes up alone, and isn't that just fun?

A slight twinge in Will’s neck woke him sometime later and he turned his head, thoroughly aware he should not sleep on the couch at his age. He stretched, hands bumping into the edge of the couch. Someone had opened the window and a cool breeze cooled his half-dressed form. It felt delightful. Will opened his eyes to dark empty void of the living room. His smile froze on his lips.

The room was empty.

Something gaped inside Will. It was darker than the shadows, more hollow than the deepest pit. Will clenched his arms around him as the feeling threatened to swallow him whole.

The shuffle of feet on the landing upstairs.

Will froze.

Upstairs? The fucking bastard had gone upstairs? Will hissed and jumped from the couch. Walking past the kitchen, he grabbed a knife before stalking up the stairs.

The blade glinted in the soft light streaming through the windows lining every wall of their home. There were no lanterns here and the closest glimmers of light pollution were far enough away not to pierce the darkness on this side of the island. Despite the rage shimmering under his skin, sweltering like the hours before a tropical storm, Will managed to walk swift but silently. His fingers itched to twirl the knife, to make it dance through the air. He refrained solely because he knew Hannibal would hear it.

On the landing, Will paused long enough to determine his destination.

A flicker of shadow moved in the atelier. Will smiled and stalked forwards.

The door was open, as always, and Will slipped through the doorway on silent feet. Hannibal sat in his usual spot, back to him, eyes on his sketchbook. The lights were off, bar a single soft lamp illuminating the drawing Hannibal was working on.

The fact that Hannibal was awake, drawing, drained a large portion of Will’s rage. If he had found the other man in his bedroom, readying himself to sleep without him…

Well. Will might just have used the knife to give his darling lover a lesson in bedroom etiquette.

As it was, a little threatening would probably suffice. Will knew it was his fear speaking, the sheer abyss of terror that swallowed him whole whenever Hannibal left him, was well aware this was not a particularly healthy coping mechanism. He just really couldn’t bring himself to care.

With quick steps, he moved behind Hannibal, grabbing his neck to still his movements as he pressed the sharp edge of the blade against the unprotected skin of his neck.

Hannibal froze. For a second, he seemed to tense, waiting to strike at the unknown intruder yet as he breathed in, and Will’s scent flooded his lungs, he relaxed once more.

‘Now, chér,’ Will said softly. ‘Didn’t your momma teach you it’s rude to leave a sleeping lover?’ Will moved the knife, carefully mimicking a cutting path across Hannibal’s neck. ‘They might just believe you abandoned them.’

Will bent his head, moving to whisper near Hannibal’s ear. ‘That you’re the type to fuck 'em and leave 'em.’

Hannibal moved his head back, baring his neck to Will’s knife.

‘However valid, your argument has one flaw, my love-’ he near purred, amused with their game ‘-I haven’t fucked you just yet.’

Yet. The world resonated through Will and he knew, with stunning realization, that he wanted that. Maybe not tonight, when everything was still so new, but soon. He wanted Hannibal inside him, wanted to pleasure him, please him. His cock filled at the mere idea of it and Will’s breath hitched just as Hannibal breathed in deeply.

‘Now, if I were to be partial to gambling, I would say you rather like that idea, dear William.’ Their eyes met, held and Will felt this pull, an irrevocable attraction. A need to be with this man forever.

Slowly, careful to do no damage, he angled the knife away from Hannibal’s skin. Will circled Hannibal, putting this knife on a nearby shelf. He plucked the drawing pad from Hannibal’s fingers, catching a glimpse of himself as he had been mere hours before, and put it gently on the table. Turning back to Hannibal, he held his gaze as he settled down in his lap, knees opposite Hannibal’s hips. Will moved in close enough to feel Hannibal’s breath ghost his lips before whispering, soft but clearly, just before pressing their lips together: ‘I love you.’

For the first slide of their lips, Hannibal was silent, a statue beneath Will’s touch. Will teased his lips, pressing gentle kisses as his words filtered through Hannibal’s system.

‘I love you,’ he repeated against closed lips.

Something that could only be described as a growl escaped from Hannibal’s mouth and, suddenly, they were on the floor. Will’s breath was knocked from his lungs at the rough contact and Hannibal greedily drank the air from his lungs. A nip to his lower lip caused Will to gasp, but if Hannibal noticed, he paid it little mind. He made his way down Will’s neck, sucking and biting bruises into heated skin.

Hannibal halted when he reached the curve of Will’s shoulder, sucking the flesh into his mouth before biting down. Hard.

Will felt his skin part under Hannibal’s teeth. Pain flashed through him, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure that followed. Hannibal sucked at the wound, drawing blood into his mouth with slow, savoring pulls. Will moaned, moving his head back to give his lover better access.

‘You know, chér,’ he said, panting lightly, ‘If you want to taste me, I have some parts up for recommendation.’ He ground his hips upwards, rutting his clothed cock against Hannibal’s upper leg. The friction of fabric on his hard, flustered skin was painful and just on the side of not enough to make Will want so much more.

With a last caress of his tongue, Hannibal withdrew from the bite to look at Will. Will didn’t need his empathy to know how he looked. Debauched. Wanton. Flush with desire. But more than anything, willing.

Will moved his hips in careful circles, eyes never leaving Hannibal’s.

‘Please,’ he begged, tilting his head to show off the mark Hannibal left on him.

As far as manipulation went, it was far from subtle. Which was not to say it wasn’t effective. One of Hannibal’s hands gripped Will’s hips hard enough to bruise, stilling his movements.

‘One day,’ he said. ‘I am going to make you come just like this.’ His hand cupped Will through his pants, pressing down harshly. ‘I will have you on your knees, rutting against my leg like a dog in heat until you just cannot help yourself anymore.’ Each word was accented by a press of Hannibal’s hands and Will could see it. Hannibal, drinking wine in his chair, one hand in Will’s curls as he allowed Will to take his pleasure in such a desperate, wanton way. Will’s breath faltered and a litany of pleas fell from his lips, sparking Hannibal’s own desire. With a last, hard squeeze, Hannibal drew his hand back.

‘But not today, I think.’ His voice was frustratingly calm, and if Will hadn’t been able to see the fevered look in his eyes, the harsh outline of his cock in his pants, Will would have believed him unaffected.

Hannibal sat back, his eyes conveying Will better not move and deftly undid the crooked buttons on Will’s shirt and trousers. He pushed the shirt aside and lifted Will’s hips with careless strength to pull his pants off. Will felt his heart flutter at the strong movements, keeping his body as pliant as possible.

‘No,’ Hannibal said, trailing his fingers over the inside of Will’s tights, teasing so, so close to where Will wanted him to touch. ‘I do believe you have given me a valid suggestion to explore.’

Without any pre-amble, Hannibal bent down and took Will’s achingly hard flesh into his mouth.

Warm wetness engulfed him and Will screamed at the sudden explosion of pleasure.

‘Oh god, oh god,’ he heard himself beg. ‘Hannibal, please!’

Hannibal drew of him with a hard, sucking motion.

‘Please what, William? Tell me what you want.’

It was more command than request and Will couldn’t disobey if he tried.

‘More, please. Please, more!’

‘More?’ Hannibal teased, sliding his fingers over spit-slick skin. ‘I’m not sure you deserve it after your behavior today, darling. Leaving me for hours, wondering if you were safe…’

His hand cupped Will’s balls, squeezing just a little too hard. Will sobbed, trashing, but made no serious move to stop Hannibal.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said instead. ‘I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I promise.’

‘You promise to be home in time to welcome me back?’ Hannibal asked, seemingly considering. ‘And you will tell me if you might be late?’

‘Yes, yes! I promise. I’ll be good!’ Will begged. The pressure of Hannibal’s fingers lessened and Will sobbed in relief.

‘Good boy,’ Hannibal said, before he bent down and took Will into his mouth, taking him all the way down until his nose hit Will’s pubes.

This time, Will was sure he screamed.

‘Oh god, Hannibal!’ It was so extremely unfair, how good this man was at pretty much everything he did, but Will sure as hell wasn’t complaining. Hannibal’s hands cupped his hips, kneading the flesh of his ass as he licked and sucked to his heart’s content.

Will’s thoughts evaporated as strong fingers teased the skin between his cheeks. Instead of panic, hot want spread through his veins with every beat of his frantic heart. Hannibal moved up and down his cock, licking away any trace of precum as soon as it beaded in Will’s slit. He lingered at the sensitive tip, firmly pressing his tongue against the underside before teasing it into the slit.

Will arched his back. ‘Hannibal, please!’

Hannibal pulled off him with a lingering drag of his lips. ‘Please what, dear boy?’

‘Please, more. Don’t stop,’ Will begged, unashamed. How could he be, when Hannibal was clearly so pleased with him. The older man’s keen eyes cataloged every little twitch Will’s body made, his lips curving when Will’s breath faltered as he traced the length of Will’s cock with the sharp edge of a nail.

‘Of course, darling. All you ever had to do, was ask.’ Hannibal sucked down Will’s cock, tracing him with teeth and tongue and Will flew. Each touch brought him higher, the coil in this stomach tensing impossibly tight with each masterful stroke. Will was an instrument, played by a virtuoso, and he never wanted it to stop.

Hannibal’s fingers teased him in featherlight touches, so contrast to the powerful pulls of his mouth.

A single finger ventured down and pressed firmly against Will’s hole. That single touch seared through him, and Will wasn’t even able to warn Hannibal before he started to come.

Will’s taste flooded Hannibal’s mouth. He hummed, sucking Will deeper, laving at him with his tongue until Will was a squirming, over-sensitive mess beneath him. Hannibal took mercy on him then, releasing his soft cock to kiss his way up. He pressed his lips against the soft edges of Will’s stomach, nosing up to suck at his nipples until Will moaned from the stimulation, begging for mercy in the shape of Hannibal’s name.

Never once, however, did he ask Hannibal to stop.

‘Hannibal,’ Will moaned as sharp teeth pierced the skin of his shoulder, re-opening the wound already there. ‘Hannibal.’

Feeling sluggishly relaxed, it was no small chore to raise his arms. Will slung one across Hannibal’s back, hugging him closer. The other snaked down to palm the evidence of Hannibal’s desire for him.

‘Let me,’ Will said. Hannibal met his gaze and smiled tenderly.

Suddenly, Will’s arms were empty. It took his mind a second to catch up, to realize Hannibal had moved back and was now making himself comfortable in his chair. A single hand undid the buttons on his pants, pushing them down, just enough for his cock to spring comfortably free.

Will pushed himself up, his entire being focused on Hannibal, on his wants and his desires. Hannibal leaned back and waved a single hand towards his crotch.

‘William.’

Will’s eyes shot up to Hannibal’s at the commanding tone. Hannibal smiled but there was little tenderness now. No, Will was looking at a predator and despite the fact he should not find that attractive, despite the fact he had already orgasmed twice in one night, his cock twitched at the sight of Hannibal like this.

‘Come here,’ Hannibal commanded. Will moved before he could consider anything else. He dropped onto his hands and, spurred on by the barely veiled surprise and blatant lust on Hannibal’s face, crawled the short distance to the chair. He kept his eyes on Hannibal as he grabbed the waistband of the too-expensive trousers and pulled them down to create a space for himself between Hannibal’s slightly spread legs. He pushed the trousers past Hannibal’s bare feet and, on a whim, bent down to press his lips reverently to the arch of Hannibal’s left foot.

‘William,’ Hannibal breathed and a sliver of Will’s mind realized just how much of a paradox they were. He was the one on his knees, yet it was Hannibal who looked like he had found benediction. Will kissed his way Hannibal’s leg, starved for the taste of him, anyway he could get it. He reached Hannibal’s crotch and rested his face against Hannibal’s upper leg.

‘I’ve never done this before,’ Will admitted softly. It was no secret, and Will was sure Hannibal at least suspected this, but there was power in the way the confession made Hannibal twitch. Will watched Hannibal’s hands clench around the armrests and looked coyly up, pushing just a little further.

‘Teach me. I want to make you feel good.’

Adoration shone brightly in Hannibal’s eyes as his right hand gripped Will’s curls none too gently.

‘Darling boy-,’ he said, pushing Will’s head down toward his cock ‘-you already do. You please me so much.’

Will opened his mouth, letting Hannibal guide him onto his cock. Hannibal’s flesh was warmer than Will would have imagined, subtle and soft despite the fact he was so hard it had to hurt. Will sucked lightly, taking in the slightly bitter flavor that was so masculine he could only moan in appreciation. Because it was Hannibal. This was Hannibal, forcing his mouth up and down, using him for his pleasure, allowing Will to taste him. That, more than anything made this feel exquisite.

Will relaxed his jaw, forced still by Hannibal’s hands, his mind blessedly empty as Hannibal forced himself into his mouth. He moaned around his full mouth, feeling so peaceful, so useful and treasured like this. He felt beautiful.

‘You are amazing. My lovely, darling William.’ With a final buck of his hips, Hannibal came into Will’s eager mouth. He drank it all, sucking down wantonly. He kept laving at Hannibal’s cock as it softened, lapping every single drop, savoring the taste, right up to the moment Hannibal gently dislodged him.

Will made a soft, protesting sound, but Hannibal tutted as he rose to his feet. ‘Now, my love, while I adore the sight of you on your knees, the tiles here are hardly the place for it.’ He pulled Will up, steadying him as he swayed on tired legs.

Will allowed Hannibal to lead them from the atelier onto the landing, where he halted. Despite his tiredness, Will found anger shimmering up inside him. If Hannibal for a single second thought…

‘Your bedroom or mine?’ Hannibal asked.

‘What?’

‘Your bedroom or mine?’ Hannibal repeated calmly.

‘Ours,’ Will said, pointing to Hannibal’s door.

With a smile, Hannibal held open the door for him, allowing Will to shed his shirt and crawl, naked, onto the silken sheets.

‘I should probably wash first,’ Will said, yawning.

Hannibal slid into bed behind him, having put his clothes into the hamper. ‘Nonsense. You smell lovely.’

‘You mean I smell like you.’

‘Exactly.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a couple of day latere due to work obligations / the holidays. As always. thank you all for reading and I would love to hear your thoughts <3


	7. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up next to someone you is pleasant, but not if you just realized they would be going away for a day.   
> Will decides he's rather put out by the idea of Hannibal leaving and, while it might be the healthiest coping mechanism, he knows just the thing to cure him.

 ‘As much as I like your newfound appreciation of physical affection, I need you to let go, darling.’

Hannibal’s voice tugged at the fuzzy edges of Will’s mind. He groaned and buried himself deeper into Hannibal’s chest. Sometime during the night, he had wrapped himself around the older man, ignoring the sweltering heat and the stickiness of skin pressed together.

Will hadn’t slept this well in a long, long time.

‘Don’t wanna get up.’

‘I know, darling, and you can sleep as long as you like. I fear, however, that I do need to prepare the sail within the next two hours.’

Fear chilled Will’s blood, spreading like ice through his veins.

‘What?’

‘I have an appointment on the mainland, my love,’ Hannibal reminded him gently. ‘I will be back either tonight or tomorrow morning.’

Stunned into silence, Will released his grip on Hannibal, allowing him to slip from the bed and gather his clothes.

He had totally forgotten Hannibal would go on his bi-weekly trip today. While this island provided much fresh produce, not everything could be gotten here. So, Hannibal traveled to a larger island in the peninsula once a week and, ever two weeks, would make an overnight trip to one of the ports on the mainland. Whenever Hannibal got back, he would always have large amounts of delicacies with him. It was the meat, however, that pleased Will the most. Tender and delicious without fail, he never once asked where it came from. Partly because he was so thrilled Hannibal was back, but if he were honest with himself, Will would have to admit that, frankly, he didn’t give a damn.

Hannibal pulled on his clothes with endless grace and Will stared, transfixed, his mind working at a hundred miles an hour.  

‘I will use your bathroom to wash up, if you are amendable,’ Hannibal said. ‘I would not want to disturb your rest.’

Will shook his head. ‘You won’t,’ he said.

_'_ ' _Stay'_  he meant.

Hannibal smiled indulgently and bent over to kiss Will on the head. ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’

He pulled back, but Will was faster. He grabbed Hannibal’s shirt, preventing him from leaving.

‘Let me go with you,’ Will said, begged. One day he would have to address this insecurity, the fear Hannibal would leave.

But not today.

Hannibal frowned. ‘William, I will be traveling by boat. You needn’t force yourself to join me.’

As if Will hadn’t known that. But he would travel a hundred oceans if it meant staying with Hannibal.

‘Let me go with you,’ Will repeated, firmly, his hands clasped in Hannibal’s shirt.

‘Please.’ The word, his pleasing tone, he added them as an afterthought, but Will felt Hannibal tense under his hands.

Will had to fight back the husky laughter filling his minds. He used Hannibal’s shirt to pull himself up, quite aware of the silky sheet slipping off his frame. It pooled around his hips, leaving little to the imagination.

Not that Hannibal particularly needed his imagination, after last night, but if the widening of his eyes and the firm press of his lips were any sign, he liked it regardless.

Will slowly slipped his hands around Hannibal’s neck, using his weight to force the other man down just a little.

‘Please,’ Will whispered again, his breath brushing over Hannibal’s lips just before Will pressed his mouth gently to Hannibal’s own.

Hannibal froze. Will took advantage and tugged Hannibal further down. He used one hand to put steady pressure on the tense muscles in Hannibal’s neck as he pressed sweet, lingering kisses along Hannibal’s lips.

Will felt a touch on his jaw and suddenly his head was forced up until he could look into Hannibal’s eyes. And saw fire. Hard and fierce and just for him. He knew he was smiling. He knew Hannibal saw. A near-growl was all the warning Will got before he was pushed back into the bed, Hannibal’s muscled frame hard against him. Will felt his breath leave him at the sheer force of the movement, which Hannibal immediately took advantage of. He pried Will's mouth open, pushing his tongue inside.

Will moaned into the kiss. Not able, nor wanting, to stop himself, he pressed his body up. The movement pressed his hard cock through silk and against Hannibal’s leg. Combined with the sheer potency of their kiss, it was almost enough to undo him.

Hannibal pulled back from the kiss suddenly, breathing hard. Responding solely on instinct, Will tried to follow. A sharp tug on his curls pulled him back.

Will’s eyes flew to Hannibal’s.

‘Do you have any idea,’ Hannibal said. His voice sounded deep, and he spoke slowly, as if every breath cost tremendous effort.

Will had believed it to be impossible for Hannibal to turn him on more than he already was.

Obviously, he was wrong.

‘Do you even have an inkling of what you do to me?’

Will held Hannibal’s gaze. Showing him. ‘Yes,’ he whispered.

Hannibal blinked, caught by surprise in that singular way only Will was able to inflict on him.

‘You’re manipulating me,’ he said. There was no hint of anger in his voice. If anything, Hannibal sounded curious and perhaps even admiring.

‘Yes,’ Will said again. He managed to wiggle his leg free from the sheets and swung it over Hannibal’s hips to push their still-hard cocks together. Despite all the unnecessary fabric between them, a rush of pleasure filled him, intensified upon hearing Hannibal moan.

‘You like it,’ Will accused, teased. ‘You like my kind of manipulation.’

‘Cruel boy,’ Hannibal said. ‘Yes. It would appear I do enjoy this particular brand of manipulation.’ He smiled, all teeth, a predator in his prime. Will was sure there must be something wrong with him, to get even harder at the sight. With one hand, he pulled at the sheets, tugging them away, gone, desperate for skin on skin. Seeing his predicament, Hannibal ripped the sheets away before undoing the buttons of his trousers.

‘Do you think you might persuade me, William?’ Hannibal said, poisoned sweetness dripping from him. One of his hands ventured down Will’s body and Will arched into the fingers. A sudden movement and Hannibal pinched one of Will’s nipples, harshly.

Will cried out but didn’t pull away, allowing Hannibal to touch him as he wanted. Even as the touches ventured lower and Hannibal pinched the skin of his bottom harshly, even as Will’s body begged him to move, to grind and writhe, anything to get some relief.

Even then Will didn’t move.

Hannibal raked his perfectly manicured nails over the inside of Will’s tights, enraptured by the way Will’s breath hitched at the sensation. It hardly mattered he was being manipulated, goaded into taking Will with him. In truth, he had wondered about asking him anyway, had decided against it only because he never wanted to take away Will’s peace of mind. Never wanted to force him into facing his fears again.

With a grin, Hannibal pushed off Will and left the bed in one graceful move. Will's eyes widened and he reached up to grab Hannibal, but only managed to grasp empty air.

‘If you want to join me, you will need a shower,’ Hannibal said briskly. He stepped out of his clothes, folding them neatly over a chair. ‘We can’t have you running around filthy, now can we?’

Will narrowed his eyes, thrown at Hannibal’s change of pace. He had been relatively sure he had been about to get laid. The way Hannibal looked at him, devouring him with his eyes…

Will’s cock twitched at the thought, a single bead of precum escaping the head.

Hannibal watched it with amusement, but tutted when Will lowered his hand to trace over his aching flesh.

‘Now, now-’ Hannibal said, as he grabbed Will’s hands and hauled him up. ‘- there is no need to be impatient, darling. All good things to those who wait.’

‘Yeah, because you’re so good at impulse control.’ But there was no heat behind Will’s words. He allowed Hannibal to drag him into the adjacent bathroom. It was grander than his, with a bath as well as a shower. Will eyed the bath with barely veiled longing, but let Hannibal put him into the shower.

Hannibal turned the showerhead to the side and opened the faucet to let the water heat up. When steam started to curl around Will’s feet, he gently nudged the head back in place. Will moaned as the warm water hit his aching muscles. His shoulder always felt sore in the mornings and warm water was just about the only thing that helped. He was about to roll his shoulder, starting a series of stretching exercises, when Hannibal stepped into the shower next to him.

‘Let me,’ the other man said softly. He soaped up his hands and ran them over Will’s chest, stomach and back before pressing his thumb into the aching muscles at the edge of Will’s shoulder blade.

A moan escaped Will’s lips as Hannibal pressed firmly into the stiff muscles, rubbing them in time with Will’s heartbeat, teasing the knots loose. Will let his head rest onto the wall, hissing when his hot cock pressed slightly against the cold tiles.

Hannibal chuckled. He drew back, lathering shampoo onto his hands.

‘Stay still for me, darling.’

Will really didn’t want to move, so that command was no particular hardship. He groaned as Hannibal massaged his scalp, gently tugging his curls apart to clean them. He rinsed Will’s hair expertly, kneading a conditioner into the wet strands and directing the spray away from Will’s head. His newly soaped hands then went down to Will’s ass, kneading and spreading the muscle.

Will pushed back into the touch, wanting so much more, but Hannibal ignored him and went down on his knees to wash Will’s legs.

‘Up.’ He tapped at Will’s foot, waiting until Will raised it before washing it gently, holding steady when Will tried to pull his foot back. 

‘Ticklish,’ Will said softly.

Hannibal pressed a kiss against Will’s leg, washing the other foot quickly before moving slowly upwards. He made short work of Will’s cock and balls, cleaning them with clinical precision. Which was probably good, for Will was relatively sure he would have come had Hannibal done anything else.

When Hannibal asked him to put his head back, Will did, feeling soft and creamy water run over his neck and back as Hannibal washed the conditioner away.

‘Good boy,’ Hannibal whispered, and Will shivered in response.

Hannibal bent forward, pressing kisses along Will’s jaw as he turned him around, pulling his chest flush to his own.

Hannibal caught Will’s lips, kissing languidly as his fingers followed the water, finally spreading his cheeks and stroking the tense muscle there.

Will groaned into the kiss at the strange sensation, forcing himself to stay still as Hannibal lightly pressed against his hole.

‘William,’ Hannibal breathed, drawing back Will’s attention. Their eyes met, held.

‘If you so desired, I could open you up gently,’ Hannibal said, accentuating his words by pressing onto Will’s taint. ‘You would feel nothing but pleasure, only the slightest stretch as I opened you up.’

Will pressed back onto Hannibal’s finger, causing the digit to penetrate him just a tiny bit. It burned a little, raw as it was, with just a little bit of water to ease the way.

‘Or I could bend you over, spread you open and wide, entering roughly, making you feel it before taking you quick and hard,’ Hannibal’s voice dropped into a growl and Will moaned as his mind supplied him with a visual. He could see himself, bent over and begging, sobbing for Hannibal to fuck him.

Desire pulsed through him and Will ground his cock into Hannibal’s hip.

‘I do believe you like that second notion,’ Hannibal murmured into Will’s hair.

‘Yes,’ Will said when Hannibal fell silent.

‘Good.’

Will’s world titled and suddenly his face was against the tile again, his hips pulled back. A click as Hannibal opened one of the many bottles lining the shower and then his fingers were back, prodding harder, gliding wetly over his skin.

Just as Will processed the fact that Hannibal kept some sort of lube in the shower, Hannibal pushed a single finger into his hole and his thoughts evaporated. He hadn’t done this often, and the last time was years ago when he was still in the habit of playing with himself as he masturbated. But Will knew, without a shred of doubt, that it had never felt this good before.

The finger started to move and Will pushed back against it, wanting it deeper, wanting more of Hannibal inside him.

‘More, Hannibal. Please,’ he asked.

‘More of what, William?’ Will could practically feel Hannibal’s smile against his back. He was tempted to raise his foot and step on Hannibal's toes, but he knew the other man expected that. What he didn’t expect, was Will’s compliance.

‘Finger me more, Hannibal, please?’ Will said with a begging tilt to his voice, clenching his hole around Hannibal’s finger. ‘I want to feel you.’

Hannibal growled. A second finger was pressed into Will and he gasped as the digits moved harshly within him, brushing his prostate at almost every stroke.

‘You manipulative little thing,’ Hannibal snarled into the flesh of Will’s back. He twisted his hand, putting more pressure on Will’s sweet spot. His other hand went around Will’s torso, finding Will’s nipple with practiced ease.

Will arched his back, pleasure lighting his veins up. Pressure against his back, sharp and strong, and Will screamed as Hannibal bit him. The addition of white-hot pain threw Will over the edge and he came, shooting his load against the tiles as Hannibal’s fingers mercilessly pounded against his prostate, elongating his orgasm.

Hannibal continued until Will’s legs trembled, his whole body overstimulated. Hannibal pulled back, licking the wound on Will’s shoulder and snaked a hand between their bodies, grabbing his own cock. It took less than a minute before Hannibal came, streaks of cum painting Will’s ass, sticking to him. Before the water could wash it all away, Hannibal gathered some on his fingers.

Will sobbed as Hannibal pushed his cum-covered fingers back into his slightly puffy hole. The idea of having a part of Hannibal inside him made him groan and push into the fingers despite his overstimulation.

When Hannibal deemed Will’s hole wet enough, he pulled back, cleaning both of them before turning off the shower.

Dazed, Will watched Hannibal dry him, even sitting still when the older man cheerfully combed his hair, pulling it back into a ponytail, and shaved his cheeks.

Hannibal carefully studied the result, but seemed satisfied. He kissed Will onto his cheek before shooing him out of the bathroom.

‘There are clothes on the nightstand. Wear them.’ Hannibal’s tone booked no argument, nor was Will inclined to give him one. Clothes meant he was coming along, and as long as he was coming along, he was fine. No matter that the outfit was obviously new, and far more expensive than anything Will had ever worn, last nights shirt included. The knee length, grey shorts were tight around Will’s ass, hugging his curves without limiting his movements. The blouse was a simple white, but seemed to have been fitted to Will’s exact measurements.

Having put them on, Will had to admit he looked rather striking, and younger than his years.

‘You look stunning, mylimasis.’

Will smiled and turned around to face his lover.

‘What does that mean?’

‘It’s a term of endearment in my native tongue,’ Hannibal said. ‘Not unlike darling or my love in yours.’ He reached out to cup Will’s face, stroking the edge of scar lining Will’s cheekbone. ‘If you wish for me to call you something else –’

‘No,’ Will interrupted. ‘I like it.’

Hannibal’s smile lit up his entire face. ‘Good.’

Will leaned into Hannibal’s touch, disappointed when the other man pulled away.

‘While I would love nothing more than to touch you all day, we have an important appointment to keep.’

‘Really?’ Will asked, teasing. ‘I thought we were going grocery shopping.’

Hannibal grinned, his lips curling up in a wicked smile. ‘We are.’

‘Oh?’ Will walked past him, onto the landing. ‘Well, we should hurry then. Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.’

Hannibal nodded, not seeming overly concerned at the idea. Will rolled his eyes, but made no comment. Instead, he walked into his own room, grabbing his favorite switchblade from the nightstand. He pocketed it as Hannibal watched him, absolutely enamored by his lover’s cunning mind and sharp wit.

‘Well, what are you waiting around for,’ Will said. ‘Let’s go.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3 I, once again, would to hear your thoughts! Comments and kudos are food for writers/artists after all ;)   
> Next week will be the final chapter, with come canon-typical violence (not against our loverboys, though. Don't worry!)


	8. Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and WIll go shopping together and mean is back on the menu!

 

If you had told Will five years ago there would be a day he didn’t like the sea, he wouldn’t have even deemed it worthy of a response. Now, as he neared the dock holding their modest ship, it took everything he had to keep walking.

Even so, it was easier than he had thought it would be. Hannibal was with him, next to him, walking leisurely, pretending he didn’t know Will’s mind was a mess of different fears. They didn’t speak, which was good. Will needed his entire focus to be on following Hannibal. For that was what this was. He was following Hannibal. They might be going near the ocean once more, but at least they were together.

They would be together no matter what.

Will took a deep breath and expertly hopped onto the ship after Hannibal, who smiled approvingly. With routine motions, they readied the vessel. Will found the simple motions, undoing and fastening rope, checking the sails, to ease the tendrils of fear plucking at his heartstrings.

A gust of wind and the boat picked up speed, sailing onto open waters.

Will clenched the railing, tense as he watched the beach get smaller. A warm strength appeared at his back and he relaxed his body into Hannibal’s.

‘Is it far?’ Will asked, not taking his eyes off the waves.

‘No,’ Hannibal muttered into his hair. Will shivered at the sensation, arching back. Hannibal chuckled and wrapped his arms around Will, holding him firmly.

‘No, mylimasis. We will sail for little over an hour. There is a moderate port town with an adequate grocery shop, and less than adequate service.’

Will pursed his lips together, keeping his head turned. A grocery clerk. Probably a poor, hardworking person with few chances in life and even fewer options. While he wasn’t necessarily opposed to Hannibal’s activities, Will couldn’t help but remember a time he, too, could have easily appeared on Hannibal’s list. If he hadn’t been so different, so emphatic to creatures that go bump in the night, Will knew he probably would have ended up as a lovely steak with a fancy name.

‘Are they strong?’ Will asked, his mind working quickly. ‘Will it be fun to hunt them together?’

‘There are few people who could give the two of us a proper chase, darling. Nor do I think we should risk it.’

Will turned around in Hannibal’s arms, loath though he was to turn his back to the ocean. ‘I know,’ he said placatingly. ‘I just figured it would be fun to hunt someone strong.’

Will bit his lip, letting his eyes glide to Hannibal’s shoulder. ‘It’s okay, though. I have no doubt this will be just as fun.’

Will fell silent, curled into Hannibal’s arms. He allowed the man to pet his hair, tuck his face into the crook of his shoulder. He was rewarded a couple of minutes later when Hannibal released his breath with a deep sigh.

‘I do suppose we could grab one of the traffickers,’ Hannibal said, seemingly thinking out loud. ‘There are a couple of manors near the harbor, each one of them in the possession of one Mr. Johnson. He made his fortune illegally trafficking young women to the States. From what I had gathered, he prefers them as young as possible and has them work off their debt once safely inland. Quite a distasteful business.’ Hannibal pushed Wil’s head back, tilting his chin up. ‘Would that suit you, darling boy?’

Will made a show of thinking it through. ‘And he would be good to serve?’ Will asked carefully, his hands playing with the board of Hannibal’s blouse. ‘I wouldn’t want to ruin your dinner plans.’

Hannibal’s eyes twinkled and he carefully laid a kiss onto Will's waiting lips. ‘Don’t worry, darling. I would never let anything spoil your food.’

‘Alright then,’ Will smiled, beaming. He kissed Hannibal deeply, ensuring the smug satisfaction in his eyes was replaced by lust before he looked up again.

‘Let’s go get dinner.’

 

Their first round of shopping was remarkably ordinary. Hannibal went around town, purchasing everything he couldn’t get on their own little island. In one shop, a haggard-looking woman rang them up with brisk curtness. Will took one look at her, noticed the way she stiffly moved her upper arm, the slight limp in her leg, and was glad he had managed to change Hannibal’s mind.

In all fairness, Hannibal seemed to notice the same thing.

‘Nothing excuses rudeness, dear boy,’ he said. ‘But perhaps we should consider her spouse as a viable option, sometime next season.’

‘I’d like that,’ Will said, sweetly. Hannibal seemed pleased, most likely because it implied Will would join him on future hunts. They hadn’t hunted together since the Dragon, and Will only now realized Hannibal missed it. Missed seeing him, dressed in blood, the Devil’s bride. Hannibal’s for the taking. While Will found he didn’t particularly need to kill, didn’t feel a mad thirst for blood and flesh, the fluttering end of a desperate heart, he did like the idea of hunting with Hannibal. Could see himself getting addicted to the shared sensation of it.

Will shook his head. It baffled him, how easy this all was. How much he loved it when Hannibal touched him, bought him gifts, cooked for him. How much he loved Hannibal. Being with him should have been hard. That’s why he had run all those years ago. There was supposed to be pain, suffering. Death.

Yet Hannibal gave him no more pain than he desired, and all his suffering was self-inflicted. He had been scared of Hannibal’s touch, despite the fact he wanted it so badly. And why? Because society told him sexuality was rigid? Because it was Hannibal? They seemed like such silly, irrelevant concerns now.

Will walked over and lay a hand on Hannibal’s shoulder. Hannibal barely looked up from the wine he was selecting, accepting Will’s touch as a natural thing.

‘Anthony-’ Will said, using Hannibal’s alias for extra security. ‘-after we pick our final item and put the meat away, will we have time for something else?’

‘We could make time if you so desired. Is there something you want?’ Hannibal seemed pleased, as he always was when Will allowed him to buy him gifts.

Will smiled and kept his face perfectly neutral, just two men having a normal conversation: ‘I would really like for you to fuck me.’

Hannibal’s fingers clenched marginally around the bottle he was holding, but he showed no other outward reaction.

‘Now that, my sweet boy, would be entirely my pleasure,’ he said, drawing out the words. Will felt shivers all over his spines and he forced himself back from Hannibal before he would make a spectacle by kissing him. They already drew some attention, two men shopping together, he hardly wanted to make it worse by adding a public display of affection in the mix. While these people all seemed plenty nice, Will’s didn’t want to invite any latent homophobia. They simply couldn’t afford to stand out like that.

Hannibal seemed to agree with the unspoken warning in Will's eyes. He reached out into his pocket and grabbed a credit card. On it, in simple black letters, was the name J. Mikhailov-Campbell.

Will raised his brows, reluctantly grabbing the card when Hannibal simply held it out to him.

‘As far as proposals go, I had expected something a little more romantic,’ he remarked. ‘At the very least, I gathered there would be a ring.’ Will looked pointedly at the empty space on his ring finger.

A wicked gleam in Hannibal’s eyes, mixed with a delighted laugh, and it was nearly enough to make Will forget his aversion against PDA’s.

‘Had I known you wanted a more tactile symbol of my affection, I would have procured it long ago,’ Hannibal said.

‘Don’t lie to me,’ Will said dryly. ‘You already have something picked out.’

Hannibal smiled. ‘Perhaps. Now, go and buy some articles for yourself while I pick out a few more delicate items. We shall reconvene at the harbor in an hour.’

Will rolled his eyes but did as instructed. He walked over to a nearby bookstore. It was marketed mostly at tourists and held a decent English selection. After browsing for a little bit, Will bought four new books, enough to tide him over until Hannibal’s next visit to one of the larger towns. Walking outside, Will hesitated at a clothing store that seemed to his preferences. He had never been one to let other people shop for him. However, Hannibal seemed to be able to find clothes to his liking and they fit far better than Will might have hoped. Besides, Hannibal seemed to enjoy taking care of him, and Will felt inclined to let him.

Will ventured into a different shop instead, coming out with a pair of plain swimming trunks and a new pair of sandals before heading back to the bookstore to buy some stationary.

He reached the harbor with five minutes to spare, only to find Hannibal already on the boat, unpacking his purchases.

‘Anthony,’ Will called out, not wanting to startle Hannibal. The other man’s hearing might be superior to any person Will had ever met, but the port was bustling with tourists and Will didn’t particularly want to be put into a chokehold because he was being an idiot.

‘James, please join me,’ Hannibal invited from inside the cabin. Will put his purchases inside one of the built-in containers in the benches, wondering what Hannibal wanted from him. He entered the doorway and froze.

A small black box sat next to a larger one, each decorated with silver. Hannibal stood beside them, looking smug.

‘Are those for me?’ Will asked, the question entirely rhetoric.

‘Of course, mylimasis,’ Hannibal stated. As if there were no doubt. ‘The smaller box, you might open now. The larger will wait until tonight.’

Will nodded and reached out to grab the smaller box. He knew what would be in there, yet his mind still filled with wonder at the wedding band inside the box. It was thick, grey in color and cut in the middle by a row of small, blue stones going all the way around the band.

‘Hannibal,’ Will said, his voice thick. ‘I was – You didn’t need to buy me something like this. It looks expensive.’

Hannibal hummed in assent, taking the box from Will’s hand and placing the ring on his finger. It felt light, yet strong, strengthening Will’s suspicion of the cost.

‘I had it made quite some time ago, darling,’ Hannibal said. ‘It was always yours. The bank simply kept it save for you.’

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Will forced his face into a proper glower. ‘Do I want to know how expensive this is?’

‘Now, William, no need to be rude. It was a gift.’ Hannibal raised Will’s hand to his mouth, kissing the ring tenderly. ‘You wouldn’t refuse a present, now would you?’

It was on the tip Will’s tongue to say that he could, but he knew it would be bluster. ‘Not from you,’ he admitted instead.  ‘Not anymore.’

‘Good.’ Hannibal stood and ushered Will into the small adjoining bedroom. ‘I laid out some clothes for you, please dress so we might make one last stop.’

Will rolled his eyes but changed obediently into the simple, inexpensive clothes laid out for him. He tied his hair back into a secure bun, putting a floppy hat over it. Even though every inch of his appearance now screamed ‘silly tourist’, it would minimize the possibility of leaving DNS traces and make them less inconspicuous. Tourists were a dime in a dozen around here. Will stayed in the cabin while Hannibal started up the engines, steering the ship to a bay, where they switched vessels. This one was gaudy, screaming wealth. Will made himself familiar with the interior as Hannibal steered them to a smaller, more private port often used by locals. They docked and waited.

It took only half an hour before their prey walked onto the dock. He was accompanied by two young women. Will didn’t think they could be a day over eighteen, and from the looks on their faces, they weren’t too happy about their companion.

‘We spare the girls if we can,’ Will said.

‘Of course,’ Hannibal agreed. He handed Will a glass of champagne and pulled him towards the railing. Will laughed and swayed on his feet. It wasn’t hard to play drunk, he felt it. Drunk from desire, drunk on love and the idea of blood. It was a heady thing.

Will stumbled to the edge of the boat and Hannibal caught him, pulled him closer. Their laughter alerted the so-called Mr. Johnson. Will added the sin of homophobia to the man’s list at the narrowing of his slimy face. He was handsome, in a purely objective sense. But just as Hannibal radiated power, this man emitted waves of sticky black desperation. Alpha male he might be, he hadn’t been born that way and nature did not intend for him to keep the position.

Will would make sure of that.

‘Hey, what’re you doing there!’ Slimy yelled in English. ‘This is private property.’

‘Oh, my God, really?’ Will laughed. ‘I’m so sorry!’ He turned to look at Hannibal.

‘Cher, did you know?’

‘No, darling boy, I did not,’ Hannibal said. He turned to Mr. Johnson. ‘My most sincere apologies, sir. I fear we experienced some engine problems, and I had hoped to rest the machinery for a moment. Of course, we will not stay here, if it inconveniences you.’

A gracious smile and Hannibal stepped back from the railing. ‘Unless I might tempt you and the ladies to join us for a glass of glass champagne?’ 

Mr. Johnson didn’t seem at all inclined to accept their offer. Hannibal noticed, and added: ‘We might also discuss a suitable compensation for the use of your harbor.’

Johnson peeked up, a new glint in his eyes. ‘Let’s.’

It took little effort to lay out the plank and help the weasel and his two reluctant girlfriends on board. Ever the gentleman, Johnson went first. He stepped onto the boat, tempted by Hannibal’s offer of expensive champagne and an ever more expensive compensation.

Will intercepted the girls, quietly blocking the entrance to the boat.

‘You might want to leave,’ he muttered in simple Spanish. ‘He won’t be back.’

The first girl froze, unsure, but she allowed her friend to draw her back.

‘Gracias.’ They didn’t run, which Will appreciated, but inched back before turning towards the house.

It took their guest near half a minute before he realized something was wrong.

‘What-’ but Will didn’t let him finish. He pulled the knife from his waistband, letting the light catch it.

Johnson’s eyes widened. He might have regained composure, this surely not the first time he was being threatened, but Hannibal pushed him back into the spacious cabin.

Their prey fell back. Fragile glass broke, spilling champagne all over his overly-pricey suit. He turned, trying to scramble away, hands clawing at the smooth wooden surface. Will turned the blade in his hands. He took two calm steps, looming over Johnson and forced the knife down into the wood.

‘Huh,’ Will remarked over Johnson’s screams. ‘That took more force than I would’ve thought.’

Hannibal stared down at Johnson’s hand, examining where the knife had pierced flesh and bone before lodging into the floor.

‘You pierced bone,’ he observed. ‘You will find it remarkably easier to go between the bones. There is a lot less resistance that way.’

‘Of course.’ They both ignored Johnson’s sobbing pleas about money, rewards, and freedom. ‘Show me?’

Hannibal procured a second knife from his own person. He tossed it to Will, who caught it expertly, before grabbing Johnson’s wrist to hold his other hand still.

‘Measure the distance between the second and third finger,’ he instructed. ‘Lower… Yes, quite so.’

Humming, Will pushed the blade through Johnson’s other hand, his eyes widening at the ease of it.

‘Better, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ Will said. He stared at Johnson, who was sobbing a lot more quietly. For some big-time criminal, the man sure had a low threshold for pain. Will could see it now, how Hannibal could think a man like this lesser. No more than a pig, fit for eating and nothing else. ‘Won’t the meat sour like this?’

‘It might, but if you’re amendable, I shall administer a light sedative. It will relax the muscles and slow his heartbeat.’

Will frowned. It seemed anticlimactic to sedate their victim now and part of Will wanted nothing more than to tear Johnson apart while he screamed.

Part of a relationship, however, was compromise.

‘If you think it best,’ Will allowed. ‘Then sure.’

Hannibal shot Will a fond smile, grabbing a flat box from his coat. It contained a syringe. Hannibal flicked his nail against it, tapping the air out before administering it professionally. Within seconds,  Johnson slummed down.

‘Keep an eye on him, mylimasis,’ Hannibal said. ‘Pigs can be unruly creatures.’

Will rolled his eyes but sat down on the couch to watch their prey. It didn’t take all that long to sail back to their own vessel. The hard part was transferring Johnson’s limp form. An unconscious man was, for lack of a better term, dead weight. It would be all too easy to drop him into the ocean. Johnson would drown and while that was no great miss for the world, it would be a waste of meat.

They heaved Johnson’s body into the hull of the ship. Will had expected a barren room but was none too surprised when he found an iron lined chamber with a gurney bolted to the floor. A quick glance confirmed the chamber to be immaculate.

Hannibal flipped on the lights, illuminating every nook and cranny of the room, from the closed windows to the freezer and the rack of appliances glinting dangerously in the light.

Will whistled. ‘For some reason, I’m always surprised by your preparedness.’

‘I do hope you are impressed, as well,’ Hannibal smiled.

Will rolled his eyes and helped Hannibal to strap down the body.

‘Will he wake?’

‘He might,’ Hannibal considered. ‘But not yet. We have time still.’

Will’s head perked up. ‘Time for what?’ He wasn’t sure he could bear another surprise, not until he got used to the ring glinting on his finger, but Hannibal had made him a promise he would like to see fulfilled.

‘Don’t worry, dear boy. I do believe you will enjoy this.’

Hannibal’s voice carried inside the iron room and the cadence of his words set Will’s blood on fire. He gulped, but grabbed Hannibal’s outstretched hand and let himself be pulled up into the cabin. There, Hannibal handed him the second black box. Will stared at it, wary, but showed no outward mark of his anxiety. He gripped the wrapping of the elegant box and pulled off the lid. He tossed it onto the couch and looked inside.

His hands trembled, but not from anxiety this time.

Will looked up, meeting Hannibal’s expectant gaze.

‘Yes,’ he said. One word, clear as thunder. Hannibal didn’t seem surprised, he merely smirked and pried the box from Will’s fingers.

‘Turn around then, sweet boy,’ Hannibal dictated.

Shivering in anticipation, Will bent over the small table. He heard Hannibal take the plug and lube from the box, heard him moving around to grab something else from the cabinets by the window.

‘Loosen your pants.’

Will’s fingers fumbled to comply with Hannibal’s command. He pushed his pants past his hips, allowing them to fall on the floor.

‘Good boy.’ Hannibal’s voice was close, his entire presence filling Will and yet Will still jumped at the feeling of fingers on his boxers, stroking up the subtle flesh of his ass. Hannibal drew Will’s boxers down, stroking and teasing as he went. It felt amazing, more than amazing and Will peeked back at Hannibal.

A stinging slap sent thrills through Will and a gasp escaped his lips. Hannibal’s fingers curled around Will’s hips, pressing hard. The gleam in his eyes was positively wicked, daring Will to move away from him.

A slow smile stretched Will’s lips. He held Hannibal’s gaze and arched his back, pressing his ass more firmly into Hannibal’s hands.

‘If you don’t want me to look, just say so,’ Will drawled.

‘Would you obey?’

Will smirked and inched his head down onto the wooden surface of the table. He closed his eyes and let his body go slack. He trusted Hannibal to take care of him.

‘You are a marvel, darling boy,’ Hannibal breathed. He traced a single finger over Will’s skin before drawing back altogether.

Will listened to Hannibal’s movements. The snap of a plastic glove being pulled on reverberated through him. The sound of lube being opened was even better.

Cold lubricant dripped onto his skin and Will yelped.

‘You fucking sadist,’ Will said, but there was no heat to the words.

‘If that surprises you, mylimasis, you might not be as good a profiler as is commonly thought,’ Hannibal joked. His gloved hand gathered the lubricant from Will’s skin and massaged it between his cheeks before pushing a single finger inside.

Will forced himself to relax. No matter how much he wanted this, the feeling was odd. Not unpleasant, simply different. That sensation vanished the moment Hannibal found that sweet spot inside Will.

‘Oh god, more. Do that again.’ Will commanded. The order lacked dominance, his voice breathy and filled with lust.

‘Anything for you.’ One finger became two, spreading Will, massaging lube inside him. It felt good, good enough Will had to fight not to give in to the pleasure. While he was not one to deny himself an orgasm, this was not what he wanted today.

‘Hannibal, please,’ he pleaded, as sweetly as he could manage. ‘I don’t want to come yet.’

‘Why would you believe it matters what you desire?’

Because Will knew Hannibal would tear the world apart to give him what he wanted. But two could play this game.

‘Don’t you want to come inside me?’ Will asked, painting a pretty picture. ‘I want that. I want to come with you, holding me. Inside me.’

Hannibal’s movements stilled and Will felt the edge of oblivion slip further away, only to come nearer once more when Hannibal pressed his fingers harshly against his prostate before slipping them out completely.

Hannibal bent over and kissed Will’s shoulder. ‘You’re a menace, my love. Now be still for me.’

It was the easiest order to obey. Hannibal threw the glove in the bin and lathered lubricant on the black tapered plug. It was small but easily as wide as two fingers.  Not too big, but enough to keep Will open, to ease his muscles for the coming event. Will understood the logic of it, though he wasn’t sure he would be able to wear it for an hour without coming.  

The first press of the plug against his rim had Will moan. He pushed back, eager to take whatever Hannibal gave him. The muscles parted and the plug slid in. It felt hot and snug inside him. It made Will feel so incredibly full, he wondered if he could even take Hannibal’s cock if such a small thing stretched him so wide already.

‘Full,’ he moaned.

‘I know, my love,’ Hannibal said. He pulled on the plug, drawing it from Will until the largest part spread Will wide, causing him to groan. ‘That’s it.’

Hannibal pushed the plug back in with some force, petting Will as his muscles clenched and relaxed, fighting to accept the intrusion. ‘This will keep you properly prepared.’ With a single kiss to the dip of Will’s spine, Hannibal drew back.

‘Now, we have some meat to slaughter.’

Will’s cursing would have made any sailor proud. He pulled his boxers and pants back up, grinding his teeth when the plug jostled inside him, gazing a couple of very sensitive spots.

‘I do hope you don’t need me to do anything complicated, darling,’ Will drawled. ‘I’ll just fuck it up. Of course, you could just fuck me.’

Hannibal smiled indulgently and pressed a kiss to Will’s curls. ‘Nice try, love. Believe me, I would love nothing more, but it would be rude to keep our guest waiting.’

‘More rude than killing him?’ Will muttered the words, but not soft enough. The smack to his ass drew a loud yelp from Will.

‘Dammit! What’s it with you and my ass?’ He growled, rubbing the sore spot briefly. The touch sent delicious shivers through his veins and Will stopped reluctantly, forcing his arms to his side.

‘Not nearly enough contact,’ Hannibal teased lightly before he motioned Will to follow him back down the hull.

At first glance, their esteemed guest appeared to be sleeping, but Will had been a teacher long enough to know when someone was faking it. Johnson’s breathing was just a smidge too fast, his body too tense, for a man unconscious.

Will raised his brows and looked at Hannibal for instruction.

Hannibal moved his head to the side, considering. He pressed his lips together, but finally gestured towards the wall.

Help yourself.

Will didn’t need to be told twice. He stalked over and grabbed a thin, sharp knife. He was tempted to run the edge of the blade over his own skin, to see how sharp it really was, but refrained. He wouldn’t want to offend Hannibal, after all, and besides, knowing the other man, he kept his instruments more than sharp enough.

Will moved to the head of the gurney, keeping his footing light and nearly soundless. Johnson’s breath seemed to stutter, his body catching what his brain was trying to ignore.

Before the scent of fear could sour the meat any further, Will drew his weapon over Johnson’s neck. The skin parted readily, easier than Will might have imagined. The few times he had done this before had either been adrenaline-filled or with a corpse. This was the first time he had ever held a knife to a living man’s throat, felt the pulse in his neck flutter and then falter as the knife severed skin, flesh, and vein.

Johnson’s eyes opened wide. Will held his gaze, entranced by the panic, the gurgling breaths and the spray of blood that pulsed with each desperate beat of a heart that knew it was dying.

The whole thing took less than a minute, but it felt like an eternity before Will looked back at Hannibal.

‘Good,’ he said, answered the unspoken question in his lover’s eyes. ‘It felt good.’

Hannibal strode over and grabbed Will, pulling him against his chest. Will barely had time to drop the knife before Hannibal's mouth plundered his. It was, by far, the most passionate kiss Will had ever had. He moaned into Hannibal’s mouth, opening up for Hannibal’s tongue.

Hannibal kissed like he did all things, with conviction. And Will found he needed this, more than anything. All his life, he had known something was missing. He had dreamed of a white picked fence, a wife, a child and lots of dogs.

He had found all of that in Molly and realized it was not, at all, what he needed.

This, the power of Hannibal’s touch, his direction and passion, the conversations, love, the danger and thrill of the hunt; that was what he needed.

He needed Hannibal more than he needed to breathe.

Will pulled back and leaned his forehead against Hannibal’s. They were breathing in each other’s air, presence, sharing everything they had with the other. It was more sacred than any wedding vow had any business of being.

‘We should probably get moving,’ Will whispered. He traced his lips over Hannibal’s as he spoke, unable to stop touching.

Hannibal hummed, placing one last kiss to Will’s forehead before drawing back.

‘So we should. If you would assist me with the next step?’

They hung the meat on a hook in the corner. Hannibal expertly stripped of the clothes before he opened up the stomach.

‘Could you start sailing home while I work, mylimasis?’ Hannibal asked gently. ‘Or do you want to observe my work.’

Will snorted, recognizing Hannibal’s question for what it was. He pondered it but shook his head.

‘I’ll be fine,’ he said. ‘You prep the meat, I’ll get us home.’

 

It was surprisingly easy to fall back into the rhythm of sailing. Once or twice, the scent of the ocean stirred a whisper of panic in Will, but it passed easily enough. The hustle of movements downstairs, the lights coming from the cabin and, not in the least, the firm press of the plug kept him grounded in the moment. He was alive. He was with Hannibal.

Nothing else really mattered.

Halfway through the trip home, Hannibal came up, carrying a bag with assorted parts that weren’t fit for eating.

Feeding it to the fish was quite a bit of fun.

By the time they made harbor, Will was a conundrum of relaxation and sexual tension, and Hannibal had managed to fit their meat into two large coolers.

While it took some hustling around, which in turn worked Will to uncomfortable hardness and nearly resulted in a fight when Hannibal had the nerve to laugh, they managed to carry their groceries towards their home in one go.

Will had never thought desire could charge the air during something menial like clearing the groceries.

He was obviously wrong.

‘William.’

Will looked up from the shelves, anticipation making him tense.

‘Go to our bedroom. Undress and lay down on the bed, but leave your underwear on.’

Hannibal’s tone booked no argument and Will’s heart skipped a beat.

‘All right.’ The words leaving his lips sounded hoarse, but it was not in Will’s own best interest to halt or hesitate. If it hadn’t been for the plug, he would have sprinted up the stairs.

Instead, he walked slowly, waiting until he reached their room before stripping. He folded his clothes and lay them on the chair before lying down on the bed.

The moment his ass touched the mattress, Will moaned. Though soft, the bed was firm enough to press against the plug and Will had to force himself not to move too much.

‘I do not believe pencil or paint could ever capture how beautiful you are, at this moment,’ Hannibal said. He leaned against the doorway, completely nude, drinking his fill. He looked gorgeous, like everything WIll ever wanted and so much more. 

Will leaned back and spread his legs. It was just a little, but more than enough to stretch the fabric of his boxers taunt over his hard cock, a blatant invitation to the predator gracing his doorway. 

Hannibal pushed away from the door, pushing it closed behind him, stalking over to his prey.

Will would be this kind of prey any day of the week if it meant Hannibal looked at him like that.

In a fluid motion, Hannibal grabbed Will’s wrists and pushed them over his head, covering Will’s body with his own.

‘Don’t move.’ The command was almost nonchalant, but Will felt his limps freeze up. Hannibal smiled against his neck and slowly loosened his grasp on Will’s wrists. Long, dexterous fingers trailed down Will’s arms, pressing non too lightly at his shoulders and neck.

Tension curled tight in Will’s stomach with each inch Hannibal’s fingers pressed lower. They moved to his waist and lingered there, stroking softly. Will felt himself relax ever so slightly, lulled to complicity.

Hannibal’s tongue flicked harshly over one of Will’s nipples.

‘Ah!’ Will arched his back, not sure if he was trying to move closer or further away. Hannibal, however, seemed to have anticipated this and increased the pressure on Will’s waist until all he felt was the shockingly wet sensation of Hannibal’s tongue and the zing of pleasure going straight to his gut. Hannibal’s fingers pressed down hard enough that Will vaguely wondered if he would bruise. Then, Hannibal flicked his tongue over his nipple again and Will threw his head back as bliss filled his head.

‘That’s it, William,’ Hannibal purred. ‘Let go.’

He sucked at Will’s overly sensitive nipple, coaxing it into a peak. One of his hands trailed down, over Will’s boxers, pressing a bruising path into his upper legs.

No lover had ever threated Will like this before. Like he was strong. Like he could take all this pain and all the pleasure, and make it his own.

He loved it.

‘God, Hannibal…’ The words escaped Will lips in a litany, a prayer to his one true God.

 Yet it was Hannibal who seemed like a worshipper at prayer as he trailed his tongue lower and lower until he pressed his nose to Will’s cloth-covered erection.

Will moaned. It was all too much. The pressure of Hannibal’s hands, his breath ghosting over Will’s skin and that damn plug filling his ass.

Hannibal grabbed Will’s ass, kneading the flesh in his hands, jostling the plug around. He mouthed at Will’s cock, seemingly content to take things so slowly, it might as well be glacial.

Will had never had Hannibal’s patience.

‘Hannibal Lecter, if you don’t get your-’ the ripping of Will’s boxer interrupted his train of thought in the most delightful way.

‘Then what, William?’ Hannibal teased, his breath hot against Will’s cock. ‘What would you do to me?’

Will honestly didn’t have a clue. He stared at Hannibal, owlish expression on his face and desire churning his brain into a fumbling mess. He shook his head, unsure. Hannibal laughed and, to Will’s shock, moved away entirely.

‘Keep your legs spread, sweet boy,’ Hannibal instructed. He grabbed a bottle of lubricant, gloves and what looked like a packet of condoms from the nightstand. It was that last item that confused Will. 

‘I figured you would want me bare.’ Will stated

Hannibal halted. ‘I do,’ he conceded. ‘However, it will be far more of a mess and you might not like the sensation. Besides, it will require extensive clean-up.’

Will bit his lip, considering, but shook his head. ‘If you’ll help me with the cleaning, I want to go without.’

‘Of course,’ Hannibal said. ‘Anything for you.’

And Will believed him.

Hannibal walked back to the bed, dropping the lube and gloves besides Will’s hip. He leaned over Will, teasing and petting the dip in his hipbones, the hair trailing down his bellybutton towards his crotch. His mouth followed. Hannibal pressed kisses into Will’s skin, alternating between hard and soft, nipping at tender patched as Will writhed beneath him.

With practiced efficiency, Hannibal snapped on a glove and spread lube on his fingers.

‘Take a deep breath, darling boy.’

Before Will even consciously registered the words, Hannibal grabbed the plug and pulled it out, quickly replacing it with two fingers.

‘Ah!’ Will arched his back. Hannibal took no mercy on him and pressed the fingers deep, sliding them over Will’s prostate with some force.

‘Oh god, Hannibal!’ Will saw stars. Every gaze of Hannibal’s fingers felt delightful.

Hannibal added a third finger, curving them just so.

‘Stop!’ Will shouted. ‘God, I’m going to come.’ The stretch of a third finger, the expert movements of Hannibal’s hand, it was all too much. Will felt on fire and, not for the first time, wondered why the hell they hadn’t done this before.

No one ever told him how good this would feel.

Will fingers clenched into the bedsheet. He watched Hannibal, the fucking sadist, push his fingers in six more times, spreading them wider at every turn.

‘You really are such a fucking sadist,’ Will said. He could barely hold his orgasm at bay as the fingers slipped from his hole at last.

‘You love me like that,’ Hannibal retorted. He snapped the glove off and tossed it into the bin before pouring an excessive amount of lube on his thick, hard cock.

It took everything Will had not to clench at the sight. Hannibal was big. Not much bigger than he himself was, but large enough that the sight of it worried Will slightly.

‘Don’t worry, mylimasis.’ Hannibal bent over and kissed Will sweetly on his lips. ‘I won’t hurt you.’

‘No more than I want?’ Will joked.

‘Never more than that. Now, turn around.’

Will’s brows rose, but a sharp tap to his flank had him moving. He turned to his hands and knees, presenting his ass for Hannibal.

‘Good boy.’

Something hot and hard pressed against Will’s hole and all the preparation in the world couldn’t have prepared him for the feeling. It was big and weird and hot and wrong and glorious all at the same time.

‘Breathe, William,’ Hannibal whispered. The head of his cock breached Will’s rim, drawing moans from both of them.

Hannibal grabbed the lube and poured more between them as he gently fucked his way into Will’s tight hole.

Just as Will thought he couldn’t take any more, Hannibal pressed flush against his ass.

‘That’s it, my love,’ Hannibal said. ‘You’re doing so well. You’re being so good for me.’

It was the words more than anything else. They set Will on fire, urged him to be more than good.

To be perfect.

Will experimentally rotated his hips. It felt weird. Full. But it was Hannibal, and being so close made everything else pale in comparison.

Hannibal grabbed his hips and pulled back slowly, dragging over Will’s insides. Will just started to think it felt okay, when Hannibal pushed back in, hard.

And made him see stars.

‘AH!’ Will tumbled forward, his arms losing out at the press of Hannibal’s cock against his prostate.

‘There you go.’ The smirk in Hannibal’s voice was audible, but Will didn’t care. He scrambled for purchase against the sheets as Hannibal fucked into him, hard, pounding Will’s prostate with every snap of his hips.

‘Oh god! Hannibal!’ Will’s body tensed and relaxed, tensing again in spasms. He was hurtled closer and closer to the brink, his entire body slick with sweat, precum dribbling from his cock.

A particularly hard thrust pushed Will further off-balance. He lay his head on the sheets, sobbing and moaning Hannibal’s name, begging for more. Begging him not to stop.

‘Touch yourself, my love. Be good for me, I want to feel you come undone,’ Hannibal ordered.

Will could do nothing but obey. He snaked one hand down, grasping his aching cock and jerking it in time with Hannibal’s forceful movements.

‘That’s it. You’re being so good for me, sweet boy. Taking it so well. My William.’ The words all tumbled together in Will’s head, adding to his arousal, making him feel good. It felt like he was flying and he knew he could let go because Hannibal would be there to catch him.

Hannibal bent over, his teeth finding Will’s shoulder and that’s what did it.

Will came with a shout, spilling all over his hand and the silk sheets. His hole fluttered around Hannibal’s cock, drawing him in deep. It took less than two thrusts before Hannibal spilled hotly inside Will.

Stars dancing before Will’s eyes, his mind blissfully blank as Hannibal pulled gently out of him. He moved from the bed, leaving Will to collapse in his own mess. Before Will could even think to protest, Hannibal was back, running a warm cloth over his back and between his cheeks.

Will hissed as the fabric touched his puffy rim.

‘You will be sore,’ Hannibal said. ‘But nothing is damaged, no rips or tears.’

‘No need to sound so smug about it,’ Will muttered.

‘Is that so?’ Hannibal arched his brows. ‘Might a man not feel superior after pleasing his lover?’

Will huffed out a laugh, turning towards Hannibal.

‘That was the best orgasm of my life,’ he admitted.

Hannibal smiled down at him, more gentle than Will had ever seen before. ‘So far,’ he said.

‘Yeah,’ Will admitted. ‘So far. Though you will have you try your hardest to top that, old man.’

Hannibal’s brows shot up his forehead. Will yelped as strong arms surrounded him, picking him up and carrying him to the bathroom.

‘My sweet boy,’ Hannibal whispered in Will’s hair. ‘You know better than to issue me a challenge.’

Will laughed. ‘Perhaps. And while I would love for you to prove me wrong, you owe me some dinner first.’

‘Of course, mylimasis. How about steak?’

Will caught the red glint in Hannibal’s eyes and, reaching up, kissed him.

‘Steak sounds amazing.’

EVerything did, as long as they were together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! My apologies for taking a bit longer, the chapter got, well, longer.   
> Kudo's and comments are a writer's heart and soul, so please let me know what you thought. I would love to hear your opinions. <3  
> As always, thank you all for reading! 
> 
> Side note - the ring is very, very expensive. It's titanium with blue diamonds.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is welcome, but I do write fanfic for fun!  
> No Beta, all mistakes are my own.


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